The duck factory
A little yellow factory: slides for machines, laughter for output.
Slide off the duck's head, climb back up its wing, and the afternoon is gone.
By the third spin the children still want more; the parents are the ones dizzy.
On the top tier a child hesitates for one second, then goes.
Children climbing the orange nets, like a shoal swimming upward.
The children who climb it in the morning are still up there at dusk.
From the air, a colourful carpet; on the ground, a day is too short.
Climb one face, slide the other; first down, first to laugh.
At the top of the bounce you can see the whole park.
A little blue dragon lies on the grass, and children slide down its back.
Children who enter the pink castle only ever leave by the slides.
A little yellow factory: slides for machines, laughter for output.
When it spins, the wind takes every chair and all the hair goes back.
One pull, and a family of four rocks together; nobody wants to stop first.