The Big Blue Balloon

I was six years old at a county fair
In the autumn of ‘58

My working class Dad won a big blue balloon
With his skills at throwing straight

That big blue balloon was my pride and my joy
For all the rest of that day

As we were leaving, that big blue balloon
Slipped my grip and floated away

The world crashed in, worst day of my life,
My mom thought fast as I cried

“Quick, rub your hand upon your chest and hold it to the skies,
the balloon will take it, a piece of your heart, to join it as it flies”

“Your heart will go over mountains of snow, and fly over fields of green,
And when you dream your heart will show you all that it has seen”

“And if you are good some child in a land so very far away
Will find your heart and that big blue balloon and bring it back someday”

A mother’s words soothed the child I was and dried up salty tears
And yes, I’ve dreamed of exotic lands, both far away and near

Then one day in a mysterious way a message arrived online
It came from a lovely Indian girl who liked watching stars as they shine

“I’ve found a balloon with a heart inside that says it belongs to you
I’d like to return this piece of your heart, please tell me what to do?”

“Be kind and gentle with my heart, please don’t make it ache
I’ll send for it shortly if you allow, take care it doesn’t break”

“No fear of that”, she quickly said, “I’ve taken a liking to this heart
And I will carefully tend to it now, as I have right from the start”

“Then keep my heart”, I said to her, “keep it and watch it glow
I’d rather it stay with you anyway, it left so long ago

I talk to that girl from time to time and she smiles so warmly when
she says she loves that piece of my heart, that binds us now as friends