A Conversation With a Baloon (Children’s Poetry)
It was a lazy Saturday
On a long summer’s afternoon
And I had not a thing to do
But play with my balloon.
Monsieur Balloon, dear friend, said I,
You are no fun, no fun at all!
If I let go of you to play
Without a word, you fly away!
Ah, sweet child, was his reply,
Fault not my deathless will to flight!
You would too, if you knew how
To view the viewless Heaven’s light.
Not so! said I, I disagree —
The Earth below is best for play:
Here are fields in which to run
And trees to climb — delightful fun!
The tulips bloom for us to smell,
The mud is moist and good to throw,
And I have confidence to say:
Though I could leave, I would not go!
You are young, and much have still
To learn of things beyond your age;
But leave me be, I yearn to go
And be warmed by the sun’s great glow.
So spake my balloon to me —
I knew he spake it earnestly.
There I let my friend be free;
As he left, he winked at me.
