Whipping around
Like the wind
On a carousel
The horse
Your tool
To girlish glee
Where childhood
Is celebrated
And worry
Needn’t enter
The conversation
Out my window
The birds
Are soaring
Riding the wings
Of their creator
And having a ball
As the star
Of the show
Ahh, nice way to start the day. I hear birds here too, this morning.
ReplyDeleteAll creation praises His name!
ReplyDeleteHappy Sunday, Regine! I love watching birds!
ReplyDeleteWhat a perfect poem. :D
ReplyDeleteGreat poem. Hugs and blessings, Cindy
ReplyDeleteNature is perfection :)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, darling!
ReplyDeleteSaw a fox in my snowy yard today :)
Life still practically unbearable, but made less horrific with support of friends like you.
xoxox,
CC
I can almost see the birds, your verse is so descriptive - and yes, when we were young enough to ride merry-go-rounds, there was never a care in the world...
ReplyDeleteBlessings
Maxine
Oh, I still love the carousel to this day. It's just so fun and freeing.
ReplyDeleteHave a beautiful week, Regine.
~Sheri