Carousel Princess - For Kaycee

The horses prance lightly on a carousel track,

frozen and still, forever prancing around and around.

Their painted saddles and bridles gleam and come alive

with carousel light and a calliope of music.

And riding a brass pole, up and down and up again,

they convey the children into a world of imagination,

a world of their own creation, their laughter and glee

ringing the air, their tiny hands clutching tightly

that brass pole for safety, surety, as they race

the circle of the carousel, reaching out for a brass ring

to claim their prize, proclaim themselves as victors.

But she’s content to ride the sleigh, curved and carved,

a regal coach pulled behind carousel horses prancing,

this private carriage no fairy godmother appearing

can conjure up from pumpkin and mice;

she smiles and waves with each revolution,

satisfied to be carried magically toward a castle,

a royal ball, a Prince Charming of her own, lost

in her own Princess world, unconcerned by the other children;

and the rest of the world sleeps, looking on,

awaiting love’s first kiss, the stroke of midnight’s

clock, and the spell of childhood to be broken.