Balloons
So many balloons I can spy -
colorful air-ships above me.
This happens each Fourth of July-
a sight all the valley can see.
How glorious is this dreamscape.
So many balloons I can spy
making me wish to escape
and float with them up to the sky.
I’d want to go higher than high,
ride clouds, and gaze down like the birds.
So many balloons I can spy
so lovely that I have no words.
In morning’s bright light how they gleam.
In a hot-air balloon may I fly?
With feet bound to ground, I but dream.
So many balloons I can spy.
Feb. 8, 2023
for the Balloons Poetry Contest of Anthony Biaanco
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2023
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