Warm stiff breeze blowing granular sand,
I rush to the beach, a kite in my hand.
Fresh ball of string, stiff off shore breeze,
My kite takes flight, feeding string with ease.
A three foot tail, steers it true,
Puffy white clouds, sky deep blue.
Amazed at the quickness of its flight,
It soars up high, to my delight.
Just a tug on the string, it dances in the air.
Should I fly it higher?
Do I dare?
The higher it flies,
Its harder to hold
I can do it!
Spirit bold.
Suddenly! ....My kite is out of control,
Powerful gusts, break my hold.
I knew my kite was doomed right then,
But...I'll be back....tomorrow again!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem