My Balloon
Come fly with me in my hot-air balloon.
We'll skim over mountain tops very high.
see golden sun replaced by silver moon
as stars weave tapestry in ebon sky.
With freedom we'll fly like birds in the air,
in and out of clouds, dodging sudden storm.
watch lightning's fingers spread everywhere,
see how, in clouds of mist, rain showers born.
Our balloon will take us where morning breaks,
as dawn skips gaily over waking sky.
Colors so lovely they'll make our heart ache,
and clouds drift slowly by our vantage high.
Alas, our beautiful journey must end
But places visited and wonders found:
lovliness, before we could but pretend.
In a balloon, we'll sense magic around.
February 5, 2023
for "Balloons" poetry contest
by Anthony Biaanco
Copyright © Ann Peck | Year Posted 2023
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