Pineapple topped beach palms are tall in the clouds,
Echoes of bells tones trail in the sky so dark blue.
The sun is liquid honey, with a golden candy coating,
It is now that I look up and see my red balloon.

A song of harmonic laughter is full in the air,
Up it floats into adventurous magical territories,
Mythic beasts and sprites follow on clouds and stare,
Ticker-tape string trailing, windy chimed melodies.

The chalk of clouds are pillows filling the sky,
Darker and suspended in mid-animation, dimming.
The balloon floats still-ever higher in the light,
Lighter than ever, above the earth still spinning...