The wind blows boyish smiles across my face
Or so it seems, my love returns the look,
The same breeze turns over leaves in my book
Abandoned to the grass while we play chase.
In the grey street corners littered thoughts fly
And unseen pull umbrellas inside out,
All children like propellers turn about,
While smudged clouds and sun search-beams race the sky.
Nothing stops this impetus nothing tries
Though walls and roots resist change conquers all,
Gigantic pressures invisibly rise
And rising bring an eventual fall,
My string to her balloon forever tied
We prepare for our future on the squall.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really enjoyed reading this, the title caught my eye and I wasn't disappointed, well done,10, Lynda