Young Rosalind at the World's Fair

Rosalind, sundialers know to wait.
This turn before their time, it's just a ride.
At day's end, everybody wins,
so none need chase the shade.
Let's sit and wait, dear, you and I!

Rosalind spins her pleats beside the entrance stiles,
a curtsy winning some weakened smiles
from scattered sighs too late to chase the train.
With rumbles swirling through her ears,
she gently tilts and sifts to hear
the whistle to whisk them from Calais!

Rosalind, let's nap, it's just a ride!
Tomorrow we'll race, dear, you and I!

Rosalind snubs her brothers though a fan of heights,
for Miss Curie's ghost holds a curious sight.
Her beaker gleams with light, and then she fades.
The crowd applauds, yet all the while
a hidden glass between the tiles
fails to shake off young Rosalind's gaze.

"Rosalind, come once, it's just a ride!
Let's soar through space, dear, you and I!"

But once we doubt, we doubt it all.
Today she vows to count her falls,
inching across the platform grates...

Rosalind, watch winders know to pace.
Each turn to keep in time, it's sure no ride!
But if we're mindful of the glints,
glass walls may guide our way.
Let's set a pace, dear, you and I!
Oh, let's set a pace, dear, you and I!

(With apologies to Bill Hicks.)

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