Bubbles--a poem

"Bubbles"

Bubbles come from everywhere,
Lightly float up in the air,
Soar like Monarch Butterflies,
Gentle wings upon the skies.

Bubbles fly up to the moon,
Orbit round, and then to soon,
Float of to race,
Far off in space.

Bubbles fall down to the Earth,
And with decent, a cause of mirth,
They tickle worst,
Just when they burst!

Bubbles are a gift of joy,
Are blown by every little boy,
With soap and water and a ring,
A small soft breath exhaling.

Bubbles can be used to dance,
Champange music, in a trance,
Glitter off of candlelight,
Light the music of the night.

Bubbles seem to be the cause,
To brighten eyes, and give one pause,
To feel how great that life can be,
So long as bubbles float up free.

By Mark Worden
2002