Red Balloon

A fine line between what is said
and what is meant
when passion hides
behind well wishes and glances
on the other side of friendship
and no one knows better
than Madame Bovary
if love will come or
love will go
the extra mile or
fade off into a slow burn
sun rises and sets
with each lie that innocently
drips from lips of gold
like spilt wine from high end crystal
visions of happily ever after
play out in the perfection of a Truffaut flick
and optimism is a red balloon
that is chased after and never caught…

                                                                  unobtainable high… 

© 2015 TrilbyYates 

Red Balloon

Hiding 
from the quiet 
stillness 
that comes 
from hanging low 
off the grid 
moonlight shoots 
rays of sadness 
into my veins 
slow drip 
enthusiastic recollection 
skipping stones 
across the Sound 
echos 
back at you baby 
there is no time 
quite like now 
yesterday 
is layered in a haze 
and tomorrow 
holds promises 
like a sieve 
pessimistic anti Christ 
shatters 
optimistic hopes 
for a glance 
backward into the fog 
clarity is a dream state 
that follows me 
around 
like a red balloon 
without translation ~

© 2013 Trilby