Member Poem

Balloons are fashion statements,
on a day pass,
according  to the cynical among us,
they soar beyond nirvanas,
touched by feeble contours,
such cynics glibly say,
easily deflatable,
tinsel metaphor of hope,
yet a shrewd optimistic focus,
on a hue-endowed dream,
allied to purposeful step stones,
is anything but gaudy escape,
or gold seam galaxy,
far beyond  too distant clouds,
the unchained blinkered mind,
will never savour,
those sparkling streams,
of  gem-laden opulence,
in  every vivid  sense,
so tantalizing in proximity
waiting for the blinds,
of undue caution,
to be finally lifted