© Niranjan Noel Joseph

Β© Niranjan Noel Joseph
“This is how moths speak to each other. They tell their love across the fields by scent. There is no mouth, the wrong words are impossible, either a mate is there or she is not, and if so the pair will find each other in the dark.” ~ Barbara Kingsolver, Prodigal Summer

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Hot Air Balloon

Can you take me away baby? On your hot air balloon.
I'm sick of this place baby. I wanna get outta here soon!
Can you show me baby? The stars, the sun and the moon?
Can you take me away baby? On your hot air balloon.
Whisk me away baby. This very afternoon.
Can you take me away baby? On your hot air balloon.
Take me to a place baby. Where summer isn't just April,May & June.
Can you take me away baby? On your hot air balloon.
I don't wanna see anymore buildings baby. No shop, no mall or saloon.
Can u take me away baby? On your hot air balloon.
Where I needn't eat my food baby. With a fork and a spoon.
Can you take me away baby? On your hot air balloon.
Rescue me from this prison baby. This trauma which makes me swoon.
Can you take me away baby? On your hot air balloon.
If I get one wish baby. That one single boon.
I'd wish you'd take me away baby. On your hot air balloon.
I'm gonna wait for the day baby. Hope that day comes soon.
When you take me away baby. On your hot air balloon.
~Waiting patiently, Niranjan~
(inspired by xxxxx's dream)

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