Lovely new good mood
you visit me like a floppy cloud
filled with warm rain
blown to land's end
and half-ways back-
tumulus of cumulus, off-lit.
Squarish in my mind you sit
unpeeled like an orange:
gold suffusing blue
vanishing, twinkling into view
like a chunk of dry ice, you
sublime by your own rules, do.
New and presently blue
You leap for the sun like Pegasus,
yet bit by bit you'll go,
that I know is true,
no one can hold you-
when your pegs un-do, and soon
off you'll go like a helium balloon
to the moon to whom you're elated
to be distantly related.
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Comments about this poem (Mood by Morgan Michaels )
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