Wild Cat

Imagine a ride that was sparse inside,
a hard seat and an iron bar,
a roller coaster’s basic car.
We liked to feel the speed,
it satisfied our need,
it always took us far.

Imagine a height that would cause us fright,
a structure made of wood and steel,
a weave of rail for coaster wheel.
The cars would reach the peak,
the wooden planks would creak,
we’d feel our insides reel...

The ride was called the Wild Cat,
we rode it all the time.
Our eyes grew wide, we held our breath
when the coaster began to climb.
Then as it plunged into the depth
of the bottom of here we go,
we screamed and held our arms straight up
as the butterflies fluttered so.

Imagine a park that once made its mark,
Idora was a gentle name,
a fun house but that was too tame.
The Wild Cat was king,
the thrills that it would bring,
it always was our aim.

Imagine a ride where the nerves were tried,
a coaster reaching to the sky,
a rousing of the butterfly.
The whip around each curve,
accelerating swerve,
a clean and wholesome high...

We always eyed the Wild Cat,
it had intense allure.
Despite the stomachs left behind,
laughter later would occur.
It was three minutes on the moon
till intensity’s ride was done.
The Wild Cat once stole our breath
yet the loss of that breath was fun.


40 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
February 20, 2014