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Personal Note:
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Poem
in loving memory of my nephew, Eric
Jones, who is now flying with the
angels


I was a professional kite flyer, and had won big contests and tournaments,
As the one who has glimpsed a dream, and hasn't ever looked back since.

I began flying kites as a girl, running in summery fields with my brother,
When kites held such a colorful attraction, and exhilaration like no other!

Since then, I had never found another vocation, I loved nearly as much,
Like a starlit moon in pure midnight, glimmers steadily on lakes and such.

I had a collection of treasured kites, that were my pride and me gave joy,
Like when you dread that love isn't true, and ascertain it is the real Mccoy.

Besides acquiring friends all over the world, I also enjoyed foreign travel,
Like the fading, iridescent, rainbow dream, that you regret to see unravel.

Already at the summit of my field, I began to long for a fresh adventure,
As the jet shadows of noonday, to the mellowing gold longs to surrender.

June teemed with velvety flowers, and myriad stars winked at the moon,
And birds sang their golden oldies, through endless, clear blue afternoons.

The joy of spring was everywhere, in whistling wind and smiling meadows,
Where riots of wilder blooms wallowed, prior to waltzing on their stilettos!

I was practicing with my colorful kite one day, in a mint green urban park,
When a burgundy hued bird soared into azure blue, like a sudden remark!

I paused and watched the splendid bird, as it flew straight toward the sun,
Soon to be engulfed in deep golden, like buttercups that've opened sudden.

I stared after the bird for long moments, and I knew I'd found a new love,
As the grey wolf, with wild abandon, finds he's howling at the moon above.

My heart would forever be in kite flying, but I yearned to glide higher still,
Like the pearl scattering June moon, when she's caught sitting on the hill.

Everyone I knew was astonished, when I started taking my flying lessons,
But I was born to be a denizen of blue skies, of various hued expressions!

Like the billowy clouds ever wandering, along the streets of the Milky Way,
And sometimes even gliding backwards, as a rosy future is pursuing today.

I threw my all into my flight lessons, as aurora borealis shows what it's got,
And I cried for joy when I got my license, like clouds when they get too hot.

My loved ones were so glad for me, like maroon flowers smiling at the sun.
Like the smile of someone who's always known, that you're their only one.

Now I truly know what it is to be happy, flying like a bird above the clouds,
In the angelic heavens above, the beautiful earth, with its bustling crowds!


I will be absent from Poetry Soup for a short time, my friends, 
because of my nephew's sudden death.
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