You like this word
It dribbles from your lips,
A mantra for fun
To discover.
Plastic possibilities drip
From fingertips
And a wand
Draws our breath.
A captured sheen,
Of tempting fragility
Teases the breeze
And your eyes.
Then all at once
A tumbling launch,
Rainbows ripple skywards
In a spherical dance.
Fuelled by delight
You rumble the garden
To catch the impossible.
Now just a memory,
Innocent wonder
Beams back from a bubble
Then it’s gone.
© Emma Cooke 2013