Little Colette loved ribbons and lace and violets at her waist.

Her favorite mount on the carousel was a pony named Merrylegs.

Dapple gray with mane and tail like mounds of drifted snow;

dainty hooves and soft brown eyes made Colette love her so.

Brave Pierrerode a black warhorse with armor of silver and gold.

Its name was Prince and it carried Pierrewith prideful step and bold.

The boy fought playtime battles with dragons fierce and dark.

He saved Colette most every day on the carousel in the park.

The children lived in that special place where love is summer’s gift;

and the carousel’s a trysting place for innocent childhood bliss.

But childhood summers quickly fade and children outgrow games;

the way they outgrow summer clothes and made-up summer names.

Pierre and his family moved away.  Colette’s stayed close to home.

The years sped by and soon the two in different worlds had grown.

Merrylegs and the bold, black Prince still whirled on the carousel;

but other children rode them now with other tales to tell

Then, one fine spring afternoon a tall, slim soldier came,

and sat beside the carousel to watch the children play.

A crutch lay close beside the bench; he’d fought a dragon grave;

and a medal pinned to his uniform mute testimony gave.

Tall Pierre came every day to sit in the summer sun.

And soon the crutch was thrown away for recovery was done.

But through those days he’d come to long for the sight of fair Colette.

And the violets growing around his feet would not let him forget.

“I wonder where she is?” he mused. “Does she ever think of me?

And how we rode the carousel through childhood mysteries?”

He turned to go, the time had come to take life up again;

when suddenly he saw Colette standing next to him.

No word was spoken that lovely day as hand in hand they turned

to their favorite mounts on the carousel and took their places there.

Lovely Colette in ribbons and lace with violets at her waist,

and handsome Pierre on bold, black Prince rode back to a magical place.

For an afternoon in the summer sun childhood reigned anew

while Merrylegs and the mighty Prince wove ties of a different hue.

When they stepped down from the carousel an adult love had grown.

brave Pierre and happy Colette set forth on a life of their own

c.2011 Donna Swanson


About dswan2

Poet, author, columnist, lyricist, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, wife of 50 years. Born and raised in America's Heartland
This entry was posted in EXTRAS and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to PIERRE & COLETTE

  1. This is an absolutely delightful fairytale =)

  2. poetryroad says:

    This is just so charming…I love its sense of innocence. My middle name is Colette and you don’t hear the name often. Preciously alive and vividly written!

  3. luna15 says:

    oh my goodness it was so beautiful i am crying.

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