Iridescent bubbles, light rainbow hued globes,
Innocent and pure, born of childish faith and hope,
Drifting happily o’er sun dappled fields.
Such elusive and fragile creations of soap
Crafted by fairytales and fantasies,
Simple childish dreams of what will be
Born in souls not yet stained by disbelief
And minds that do not yet reality see.
But as the real world does ever closer creep
Its fingers reaching, overtaking simple childish dreams
Bubbles crafted by a child’s untainted love
One by one are burst in reality’s streams.
And as the last bubble bursts in the day’s sunset,
And we watch in sadness as truth is revealed
Can we imagine the world, perfect as we once believed
When we still chased bubbles in rainbow flowered fields?
