©1991 Susan Noyes Anderson
Have you ever gone spinning round and round
till the ceiling looks just like the ground
and the ground looks kinda like the walls
and you’re caught in a whirlwind where everything falls
up and down, topsy turvy, like some crazy ride
so you’re feeling all funny and tickly inside
and you want it to end, but in some way you don’t
then your mom says that you’d better stop, but you won’t?
Well that’s just what happens to me all the time.
I’m a spinning machine and I’m right in my prime.
If you never spin, try it. You’ll like how it feels.
Just make sure you don’t do it too soon after meals.
If you liked this poem, you might also enjoy reading Playing Inside