Carousel

Carousel.PNG

Standing in a summer’s mist,
early morning heat and dew,
a carousel abandoned,
ebbing from a fairground’s stew.

Echoes of calliope,
hushed in rusting pipes,
risen by the subtle breeze,
groans in tempered gripes.

Soprano tinseled screams escape
the platform’s gentle rolling,
whispers stitched among the chants,
Gregorian and tolling.

O’er the stays of canvas frayed,
reds and blues tease gently, torn,
rounding boards ornate and wide,
tarnished crackle, sadly worn.

Leaden mirrored center blinds,
ghostly grey and steel,
stirring passing images,
tintype memories, laughter’s squeal.

Oaken massive platform stained
with seasoned mud and puddled rain,
rusting mounts of tired ponies,
saddened in their lonely pain.

Dare I not to step aboard,
as history’s watch is mercy’s keeping,
so gather witness to my soul,
for all my childhood dreams there sleeping.

20 Comments

Filed under Dreams, History, Memory, Perspective, Poetry

20 responses to “Carousel

  1. Bev

    This is such a poignant walk through an abandoned amusement park! There’s something so sad about them.

  2. I enjoyed this very much. Something sad about a childhood, left. You photographed it expertly with this poem.

  3. I love your sleeping childhood dreams in this description of the derelict carousel.

  4. Oh those ghosts of the fairground! I love the sepia tones of this poem. There is nothing sadder than an abandoned carousel. I especially enjoyed the lines: ‘Echoes of calliope,
    hushed in rusting pipes’;
    ‘whispers stitched among the chants’;
    ’rounding boards ornate and wide,
    tarnished crackle, sadly worn’;.
    and
    ‘Oaken massive platform stained
    with seasoned mud and puddled rain,
    rusting mounts of tired ponies,
    saddened in their lonely pain’.

  5. I like that you have a “place,” for your sleeping, childhood dreams.

  6. ‘Oaken massive platform stained
    with seasoned mud and puddled rain,
    rusting mounts of tired ponies,
    saddened in their lonely pain’.

    Such tender wistfulness in these lines.. sigh..

  7. Good poetry in meter and rhyme. Uncommon these days. Check out my blog: http://www.mypoetrythatrhymes.wordpress.com

  8. I have childhood memories of carousels also and would prefer that ride to the faster ones available. I liked the rhyme and meter.

  9. The carousel was just about the only ride I ever liked at the fair that would come to town when I was a child. Yes, there’s something especially sad about an aging and worn ride that once brought such joy and happiness to many. You captured that melancholic memory very well.
    Gayle ~

  10. Sepia tinted poetry that echoes ghosts of our youth and calliope’s house. Stunning.

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