Exactly 2 years ago – 3 weeks before we had our first baby, we bought a balloon mobile to hang over his cot. I wrote this poem when he was a few months old but reworked it this week. Not sure it’s done – I don’t really like the repetition of the imagery of waiting in the third and final stanza.  But it’s done for now and in the interested of keeping a diarised version of my 100 Days Of Poetry progress, I’m posting it as it sits today.

We bought you balloons,
symbolic, you see –
so you’ll know if you want to,
you’re free to be free.

We won’t tether you down
to us or our home,
we want you to wander,
we urge you to roam.

We’ll untie the rope,
you can float as you please
and we’ll be here waiting,
your daddy and me.
We won’t cringe at goodbyes,
or sob as you go,
we’ll not stand there maudlin
in sadness and woe.

Son, we will cheer you
as you fly away
to adventure this world,
to go seize your day.

Shoot through the skies,
master terrain,
battle with oceans,
leap over flames,

the Earth is your playground,
the planet, your toy,
and when you come home
we’ll be waiting, my Boy.