I was a man on a Merry-Go-Round
merrily going round and round
when the man who ran the Merry-Go-Round
sent it out of control.
Then faster went the Merry-Go-Round
and faster it went again,
round and round with a screeching sound
like the death throes of a troll.
The ground around the Merry-Go-Round
became a continuous blur
and the man who'd run the Merry-Go-Round
clung to its central pole
for flames had appeared and horses reared
and the Merry-Go-Round was a casserole
in which spinning shapes had suddenly spun
out of a deep black hole.
From somewhere within the Merry-Go-Round
came sounds like a quake now, splitting the ground
and the swan I was on went down on its knees
before it began to roll.
Bits were thrown from the Merry-Go-Round,
over the fairground, far and wide
and into my lap fell a starry-eyed bride
in the shape of a porcelain doll.
I asked the man, still stuck on his pole,
could he magic the doll alive?
The Merry-Go-Round, said the man to me,
has centrifuged her soul;
it's widely dispersed across the ground
among the swings and the coconut shies.
All that is left is porcelain -
which I find irresistibly droll.
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...
The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
It all depends, you see, how you go about it. And that I cannot tell you, for that will be dictated by you and by you knowing your friends...
I have been struggling again of late to keep up with my visiting and commenting etc. The latest inroads into the time available for the keyb...
This post has in a sense been handed to me by two or three responses to my post On not getting it. In the course of discussing how a reade...