At Corpus Christi Fair he bought
for her - three crimson balloons
shiny, floating, helium-light.
He whispered honeyed words
‘No strings attached my love -
let’s set them free on Gypsy Hill.’
Hand in hand they ran
laughing gaily like impish
children caught in the moment,
till slowly her fingers uncurled
and set them free, watching sadly
as they floated from her view.
Today with leaden heart she
stands on Gypsy Hill tossing
his love letters to the hungry wind
‘No strings attached my love’.
Blown, flown, and forever lost
like those sweet, crimson globes