A Floating Bubble On The Wind

Can you think of a mode of travel more free of stress and strain than a clear, safe bubble?!

A floating bubble on the wind,
Translucent in its soapy walls,
We travel high by blue airways,
I pray that we suffer no falls.

Turbulence rolls us all around,
Tumbling into it’s rainbow curves,
It drops to a low cruising height,
Between homes continues it’s swerves.

People stop and drop their jaws down,
Some smashing upon the paving,
Whilst we pass them in our bubble,
All continually waving.

A joy about this mode of flight,
Is in the passing scenery,
You can people watch if you wish,
Or view the flashing greenery.

One issue held against it though,
Is when the bubble flies too high,
It pops and leaves you on a cloud,
Stranded out in the deep blue sky.

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