The Poetry Bus - Magic Roundabout Spin

This week's excursion aboard the noble charabanc of dreams is hosted by Rachel Fox, poet extraordinare who set us a challenge here to produce something based around childhood characters or stories.

Go here for all the other passengers.  Now then, let's see.

Hmmm.

As a kid, I loved things like Star Trek, Space: 1999 (it's OK, I've over that one now) and my most beloved toys were Major Matt Mason and Action Man.  Could these be the stuff of poetry?  Errr.  No.

OK, come on think, think! 

Nothing?

Ok, DON'T think, maybe that's the key.  Hmm, now that the monkey-chattering has stopped, just on the edge of my mental hearing comes the tiniest thread of a tune, dragging an idea along in its wake.... 

The rough-as-old-boots recording of this song is the last track in my ReverbNation widget over on the right.  I sound like I have a cold, but I don't.

MAGIC ROUNDABOUT SPIN

Remember when we were just children,
With our heads full of nursery rhyme.
And with each summer's day came a new game to play,
With always one more tree to climb.
There was always some water to splash in,
A net full of newts we would catch.
Scrumping our tea from the old apple tree
As our secrets and plots we would hatch.

Magic Roundabout spin for the last time,
Spin me a magical tale.
Magic Faraway Tree, oh, won't you carry me
To that country where good things prevail.
Magic Roundabout spin for the last time,
Let me ride and play 'let us pretend'
Magic Faraway Tree, oh won't you carry me
Can't you turn back the clock, my old friend?

But we grew up as all children should do,
And we put aside those childish things.
The swings and the slides, all the places to hide
No more pulling off butterflies' wings.
Now the years, they have spun by in seconds,
All are gone in the blink of an eye.
We grew up, learnt a trade, there were bills to be paid
No more dreaming of pie in the sky.

Now the roundabout stands still and silent
Its music no more shall I hear.
The Faraway tree will not blossom for me
It's too late to replant it I Fear.
For time's arrow will fly only forwards
This is the lesson we learn
The play and the laughter are for those who come after
The roundabout gave us our turn.

Magic Roundabout spin for the last time,
Whirling orange and yellow and red.
Magic Roundabout spin for the last time,
Till Zebedee says 'Time for bed'.


OK, it still needs work and it's a lot of old cliched cobblers, but there it is.