The Balloon Man Poem by Rose Fyleman

HE always comes on market days,

And holds balloons a lovely bunch

And in the market square he stays,
And never seems to think of lunch.

They're red and purple, blue and green,

And when it is a sunny day
Tho' carts and people get between

You see them shining far away.

And some are big and some are small,
All tied together with a string,

And if there is a wind at all

They tug and tug like anything.

Some day perhaps he'll let them go
And we shall see them sailing high,

And stand and watch them from below -
They would look pretty in the sky !