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We're floating into the blue,Me and my blue balloon.Over the rooftops of the town,The brown fields and the treesAnd the Downs – we're floating,
We watch them, hypnotized.Pale and mysterious,They rise and fall. Joe says“They look like ghosts.”
The jellyfishdances through the waterwaving its frilly underwear.
We found one on the beach.
It had become a polythene bagfull of water.
We turn our faces up and jiggle thirty toes,Morse-coding longing with our restless beat.When will it come?Shepherds on the first Nativity, we scan the skiesand huddle,