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.