It tipped me off to the merry-go-round
under the smiling sun.
The gumdrops stained with honeydews
were taming them for fun.
You quivered under frosted light
just like a Christmas tree,
and twisted in a merry shape
with quiet harmony.
I cannot risk it being known,
however red I bleed,
that standing there before my soul's
exactly what I need.
And so I scribe this turnabout
with flick'ring eyes askew,
As snow falls on my eyelashes
I'm waiting here for you.