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(Poem 62 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

There’s a pretty little garden
in a pretty little town
where a pretty little girl
puts balloon seeds in the ground.
She waits very patiently
sitting between the rows
and waters them one by one
waiting for them to grow.
When the bulbous little globes
begin to rise and swell
she sings to each and every one
in a voice clear as a bell.
Once they’ve reached maturity
the little girl waves her goodbyes
as she watches them float away
with tears in her eyes.
@Home Studio – 62nd poem of the year
Runner ups for the balloon garden photos to accompany my poem:





(Poem 49 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

I feel comfortable in my own skin
and when I’m not, like when the sky
is inside me and I am surrounding the
sun and moon, or when the ocean is me
and the wind is my lover holding open the
door to a terrace overlooking the most beautiful
view of wrinkled valleys and snow-white mountains
freckled with the tiniest starry pinpoints of perfection.
@Home Studio – 49th poem of the year