A Merry Wind-Up

Me big round belly was grumbling soft and low like a sleeping fiddle as I ambled past the colorful stalls in the market square. Sitting on the corner of a weathered oak table was a painted tin carousel, entirely frozen and waiting for a spin. I leaned me round middle against the table edge, tapped the little brass winding key with the tip of me striped candy wand, and whispered an ancient wee tune. Click-whir! The brass gears sparked with lavender sparks, and the tiny painted horses began dancing in a merry circle, filling the lane with sweet chime music!