A Blue Ribbon
I didn't take my umbrella, assuming
the weather wouldn't respond with a whiplash,
and on coarse sand I trudge, not thinking
of a cloudburst to induce fear and suddenly bash.
My grip on this balloon string has the strength of a cord,
in case those clouds belch and belie...
luckily its rapid ascent is not beclouded,
and the flight's climax holds my attention to excite me.
Floating balloon, don't let me off this cloud nine,
keep going further up until you are set free,
and that cloudburst, drunken with sunshine,
will not hinder your enthusiasm and make you bleary.
Slowly come down, and I will catch you blithely,
as you bob, boasting a new win with a deflating burp,
crashing in my folded arms, to snuggle you contentedly...
here's a blue ribbon, weary balloon, for all the mirth.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
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