.
Confined ]inasmallplace[ slip and slither,
Try to outdo one another,
Up and over often becomes down and under
As they jiggle around for (elbow?) space. Ha.
They seem to take on lives of their own,
Each one for himself…?
Hard to catch, great escapees,
Like so many souls clustered together
Only to ‘Pop’, released to the atmosphere,
Released to God’s care,
Bright as light…
.
©Denise G Allen, 29 May 2013 06:37
29/05/2013 at 9:08 am
The second word is baffling me …
LikeLike
29/05/2013 at 9:28 am
😀 (LOL, LOL, LOL, Ben…)
LikeLike
30/05/2013 at 1:43 am
Now amended, I see. 😉
LikeLike
30/05/2013 at 6:39 am
😕 huh?
LikeLike
29/05/2013 at 11:50 am
Loved it, adee 🙂
LikeLike
29/05/2013 at 1:12 pm
So glad, Hope! 🙂
LikeLike
29/05/2013 at 2:31 pm
Beautiful descriptive poem, adee.
LikeLike
29/05/2013 at 3:02 pm
Thanks, AD. It was from a dream.
LikeLike
29/05/2013 at 11:52 pm
Very descriptive!
Some just failed to get a grip,
And remained a little drip?
LikeLike
30/05/2013 at 6:40 am
Just so, Bill – er, I mean Col.
LikeLike
30/05/2013 at 1:32 am
fun play in your words…you def capture the feel of bubbles…its fun to see those rogue bubbles that break free and dare to ride the winds high as they can before….POP
LikeLike
30/05/2013 at 6:41 am
…but, unfortunately, they all do in the end. 😦
LikeLike