I just finished this poem a few minutes ago, inspired for the first time in a long time to write actual poetry.  This is a children’s poem, and follows no set form, so I guess you could call it freehand.  The carousel was always my favorite ride at the amusement park when I was a kid, especially at night when everything was all lit up and the park seemed to glow like a fairyland.  I’ve done my best to capture that feeling in this poem.

Carousel Ride

By Shauna Houser

Carousel, carousel,

Whirling and whirling

Horses and riders are blurring and twirling.

Manes and tails flowing, the trumpets are blowing

The cymbals are crashing and lights are all glowing.

Horses are painted in colorful hues,

Brown, white, and red and all shades in between,

Spotted and striped with their glittering bridles

And colorful saddles and polished brass poles.

Up-and-down, back-and-forth, moving in place

While the riders all race

To see which of their horses is fastest of all.

The world all around them outside in the park

Is a colorful streaking of lights through the dark

And blurry white faces all looking inside,

Impatiently waiting their turn for a ride.

They look for the horse that’s the brightest and best,

The most beautiful pony that outshines the rest.

Then at last!  At last, the carousel’s slowing.

The lights are now glowing

Like colorful fireflies dotting the air

Instead of bright streamers of light painted there.

The music is finished with one clash of sound

The horses no longer are spinning around,

Their dancing is ended, their prancing suspended

As riders climb down from their motionless forms,

And pat wooden noses with cheerful farewells,

Then leap off the platform with giggles and yells.

And through the white gates all the riders depart,

To seek out more fun in the glittering dark.

The watchers outside all are standing in line,

To hand in their passes and make their mad dashes

To be at their chosen mounts barely in time.

They scramble to sit upon bright-painted backs

Their hands gripping bridles as music begins

And horses start prancing and dancing again

Back-and-forth, up-and-down,

Moving in motion, in time with the clashing

Of cymbals and trumpets and riders all laughing

The carousel’s magic seems never to end!