The baby reaches out her hand
To grab the figurine,
But just as it begins to land
It just as quickly leaves.
How beautiful to the sight;
The object looms ahead.
It reflects the white fluorescent light
Into purple, green, and red.
The baby has not seen
Anything quite so nice.
She pines to hold it in her palm;
The object is made to entice.
The object moves in orbit-style
In its mobile carousel.
A leader in its crew-while
the baby follows well.
Everytime she tries to grab
The precious figurine.
Everytime the object laughs
At baby’s naivety.
Oh how cruel is life!
To tease us so, when we are weak and light.
How many times do we sacrifice
Love for what is right?
The carousel is gone.
The parts are shipped to an antique store.
A new toy for baby has not won
Its heart at its precious core.
For nothing can compare
To what is lost and what is missing.
The object was unmatched in skills;
Height of beauty never christened
The baby cries for mercy,
The tears are not enough,
To revive the innocent sea
Of baby’s first dream and love.
