“The Merry-Go-Round,” Friend, June 1983, 24–25
The horse I ride on the merry-go-round
Is a mount of dappled green.
He carries me off to faraway places—
To worlds I’ve never seen.
We gallop past the wide-eyed moon
Along the Milky Way,
And race with every shooting star
Till the sun streaks in at day.
We dive to the bottom of the sea,
Churning bubbles in great whirls;
And I hold tight to my magic reins—
The silver ropes of pearls.
We fly to a crystal palace,
To a land all gleaming white,
And dance under icicle chandeliers
In the sparkling, shimmering light.
We rest in a vale of flowers;
I wreathe garlands for his head
Of green orchids and tiger lilies
And hibiscus, huge and red.
We listen to the calliope’s
Magic echoing sound.
Then we soar to faraway places
While we go round and round.