A Frozen Balloon (A Poem)

A Frozen balloon,

Wrapped around the finger,

Of a father.

A petrified prod,

Of an innocent one.

Don’t worry,

It won’t harm you.

But you never know,

The next gentle push says.

The balloon nods,

Agreeing to the uncertainty of its nature,

The right to be concerned.

How many pokes will its inflated patience accept?

It’s Buckaroo,

The balloon,

Because it will blow,

Not away,

But up,

One day.

*

Thanks for stopping by.

Please be a Superstar by Liking and Following. I aim to update my blog on a daily basis.

Blessings,

GavinĀ 

Published by Gavin Whyte

I am the author of the modern-day fables The Girl with the Green-Tinted Hair, and Happiness & Honey, plus several other works of fiction.

Please feel free to leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: