The land of balloons

Couldn’t resist this prompt. Reminded me of a well-loved film.

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He took a crayon from the pot and drew a red balloon, and at the end of the long string, he drew himself.

The master crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the bin angrily, but later, after school, the child met his friend on the corner, and in her hand she held the strings of two balloons, a red and a blue.

She smiled, handed him the red one, and together they drifted away, over the rooftops of the unkind city to the place where balloons and children fly free.

Red Balloon

There will always be only one balloon for me, a red one, from the film; Le Ballon Rouge.

Here are two quadrilles for the dverse prompt. The subject is, of course, balloon.

 

Lonely child dreams

of fat trout streams

and wild moonbeams.

In his hand, the string

tight holds, stars sing,

in the night sky ring

the songs of spring.

Balloon pulls high,

with birds into the sky,

he laughs, he can fly,

will never die.

 

 

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Clutch the string tight,

like the moon in the night,

balloon in its flight,

absorbs the pale light,

red glow turns white.

 

Cast wide your dreams,

let flow the sunbeams,

that fall in bright streams,

burst at the seams,

with life the earth teams.