FLYING SWINGS*
Flying swings,
Built on the thrill of gravity’s gentle hand,
Lift us up, strange birds
Into the turning sky
Where joy sways with the breeze,
Childhood's dance suspended in the air.
Hands raised high,
We chase the cloud-choked horizons
Each swing weaving stories,
Where freedom tastes like cotton candy,
A dash of courage,
In every soaring arc.
For just a while,
The earth holds its breath,
And...
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