The Kite

This poem was co-written by a classmate in my Poetry tutorial. Her name is Ella, and her words shall be written in italic. Thank you.

 

Kite tails floating in the

Afternoon breeze, a colourful dance

Of Spooled string

Catches

In the canopy of your yard

 

The weather sets in

To clouds behind their parents

Eyes. So different from the

Reality, sent

Home early to bed, no supper.

 

I wonder

If yet there is hope

For the budding storm to

Pass beyond

And break elsewhere.

 

I dream

And the kite

Returns

Delivered with a soft smile

Un-torn, joining

 

The colour of spring

Merging with the floating

Blossom petals. In the melee

It becomes a whip, racing

Us through the garden green.

 

This realm has no storms

Of dark and thunderous

Nature. Only the light

And joy of

Childs at play.

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