Imagination lives in our bubble
One circular eyelet, on the end of a plastic stick
A Soapy membrane stretches across, just two microns thick
Softly you blow, gradually I inflate with pressure
Blowing out into your universe, an instant treasure
One after the other, we’re levitating up and down
Wind swirls slightly, as if like magic, spiralling around
Popping in and out of existence, all quite randomly
Some of us clump together, starting out new families
Looking closer still, you see sweet colors of wobbly light
Filaments of sunshine, rather flimsy, daintily slight
Wow! an enormous one appears, aw sadly then buckles
Starts to collapse, only to rebound, divide, and double
We all meld together somehow, in waxy bouncy skin
Our contorted oily reflections, shimmering within
On that erstwhile morning, I was the child blowing bubbles
A memory of my innocence, and times untroubled
I conjured up a whimsical world, alone running free
My creations burst, vaporized, lost to infinity
Can I capture these fleeting moments again, very rare
Well perhaps some day, when life vanishes into thin air
Copyright © David Kavanagh | Year Posted 2020
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