Bubble, Immortalised

While admiring my poster
Of a sunrise
I opened my window
And saw a sunrise
Ten times more magnificent.

I sat in the warm confines
Of my room
And blew bubbles
Against the sunshine
Swirling, deep coloured, beautiful.

Yet… it’s sad
That bubbles are wasted so.
A short existence
Less than a minute
Before exploding
Or perhaps imploding
In a shower of tiny droplets.

I blew a bubble within my room
It travelled towards the window
As though to traverse the shining water
And to greet the sun.
It died a suicidal death
Upon the icy pane.
But still remained…
A fragile soapy ring.
A bubble, immortalised
On my window
In my poem
Until I am forgotten.

September ’04


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This blog is the collection of my poetry and prose, in chronological order from most recent to oldest.

Constructive critique is actively encouraged!

I am usually singing words as well as writing them, and make lots of other art. You can find me & my other art at any of the below links. x





All content on this blog © Rebecca Tilley, 2003-present

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