Mood is a Bouncing Ball
A silver sphere, unbound by weight,
it dances on the edge of fate—
a mood, a pulse, a fleeting rhyme,
it leaps from shadow into light.
On pavement hard, it springs to jest,
a laughter echoing across the chest,
but strike the grass, and soft it slows,
a sigh, a blush, a quiet glow.
It pirouettes when storms approach,
a tempest trapped in fragile sphere,
then dips to stillness, calm, unperturbed,
as skies dissolve to tender grey.
It defies rules, this wayward thing—
a hiccup, not a song, not a sting—
yet in its bounce, a pattern grows:
the ground it meets decides its pose.
You chase it, breathless, through the day,
it eludes your grasp, then stays,
a fleeting truce on polished floors,
until the next mishap explores.
O bouncing ball, both wild and true,
you mirror back the way we sway,
a testament to forces three—
the heart’s resilience, the world’s reply,
and gravity… always gravity.
So let it leap, let it fall, let it fly;
the ball, the mood, the reason why:
we’re elastic souls, you’ll come to see,
rebounding toward the weight of free.
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Author:
Friendship (
Offline) - Published: December 30th, 2025 04:42
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship
Offline)
Comments2
Good write and pic of Bugs Bunny there! lol.
A good subliminal in the bouncing rabbit. Moods fluctuate normally and how high they bounce determined by their innate substance as in a superball vs a plastic ball and how hard they are thrown or from how high they are dropped. Nicely done my friend
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