Blowing Bubbles
Carried on a soft whisper
Of a breeze
Little bubbles float aloft,
Delighting little children
With such simple pleasures;
A kaleidoscope of colours
Swirl around in circles
In rich fluidity
Of amethyst
And jade,
Sapphire
And gold;
Sadly, soon
Obliterated,
Erased out of existence.
Lips tremble,
But smiles
Return again
As soon as
Lips are pursed,
A gentle breath
Gives birth
To another
Gem of wonder -
A Bubble,
A Child’s rainbow globe;
Tenuous, momentary,
But a dream
Of beautiful fragility
That captivates
A sense of wonder.
Generations come and go
But this thrill will never die.
Copyright © Paul Holmes | Year Posted 2014
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