(A special prose poem)
Balloon flying high in the sky, fleet of
feet they are of lovers quest running down a merry
lane they go where no one knows but they. Sad and happy
paint upon their faces they wiggle and chase a lad
down a narrow aisle of flowers sweet going faster than
merry go rounds twirl of gray and yellow. "Help" he
calls I cannot be a merry balloon I am not seen many
twirls a turns I will not be. Kaleidoscopes aglow in one
corner is to seek a sad and lonely soul to capture and keep
but not aglow a true wish. "Lie" cry the boy I have not
agreed to such a folly as then you see. Merry ways are to
much to be. Flap Flap goes the balloons to catch another
glee.
By Felicia McCaw
Balloon flying high in the sky, fleet of
feet they are of lovers quest running down a merry
lane they go where no one knows but they. Sad and happy
paint upon their faces they wiggle and chase a lad
down a narrow aisle of flowers sweet going faster than
merry go rounds twirl of gray and yellow. "Help" he
calls I cannot be a merry balloon I am not seen many
twirls a turns I will not be. Kaleidoscopes aglow in one
corner is to seek a sad and lonely soul to capture and keep
but not aglow a true wish. "Lie" cry the boy I have not
agreed to such a folly as then you see. Merry ways are to
much to be. Flap Flap goes the balloons to catch another
glee.
By Felicia McCaw
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