My joys are balloons going up high
Taking its flight to the cloudy sky
Didak da Didak da my son sings
Stares me in smiley lip and big eyes
My little son is holding my thigh
Pressing it slowly as balloons go high
As the balloons chasing the clouds way
The sailing cloud doubles his joy!
The kid should know I must leave
A lot of work I need to complete
My loaded tasks are left incomplete
Can't spend my time in utter ease
My brief stress mingles with his pleasure
My soul approves it as a treasure!
Copyright @Poet,24 January,2019
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem