I like to watch this Merry-Mobile
As it spins round and round on a golden tendril.
How magical the light turns
As Shifting copper stars, with their glow that burns.
It has wooden arms strung with Phoenix feather,
And was found broken amongst the swaying heather.
Now it hangs in my room,
Taking away all doom.
I like to watch this strange wonder;
I've never seen it before, its limbs so strong and slender.
No one can but me-
Only I have eyes that see.
The animals roam with the stars,
Stalking the glimmering fragments, too busy for wars.
They're forever going, forever stalking,
Deep within their own hearts a' walking.
I like to watch the gift I was given;
An old man I had not known came and said it was forbidden.
They did not listen, neither did I,
And hung it in my room until from happiness did I cry.
The animals are ghostly gold,
Their shoulders and heads broad and bold,
Their paws lift in an endless waltz
Until someone brings down their romantic valse.
Hypnotic, I like to think,
And my room seems to shrink
When I look at the merry-mobile
Until I am gone with it, the arms spinning in Paso doble.
YOU ARE READING
The Poems of Magic
PoetryMagic can be many things: the last rays of sunlight calling out to the fireflies who want to catch it, the ocean, which holds more secrets than we do, and the simple love of the simplest things. Everything has magic in it, light and dark, good and e...
