THE MAGIC WHEEL!
When I was in the Butcher's shop I chanced to see this girl,
Holding aloft a magic wheel, and trying to make it whirl.
Of course, in that windless atmosphere the coloured shapes were static,
And merely shaking it about caused movements just erratic.
But in my mind's eye I saw she'd soon be running along the sand,
Holding her colourful new toy now firmly in her hand.
Her auburn hair, now tied right back, would be flowing out behind,
And whipping across her eyes and cheeks, but I knew she wouldn't mind.
Her magic wheel would flash and twist and glitter in the light
Making her shout with laughter in a transport of delight.
So strong the breeze , so fleet her feet, the magic wheel would whirr,
Making a truly scrumptious noise to tease and humour her.
As for the colours, they would blend in a rainbow whirligig
As she jumped and laughed out loud and did a crazy little jig.
What a disappointment when I heard the Mother say
'We must go straight home, my darling. No beach for us today.'
Very different windmills here: