In the gentle whisper of the breeze,
A bubble takes flight with ease.
A sphere of colors, light and bright,
Dancing in the sunlight’s light.

Born from soap and a child’s breath,
It floats higher, defying death.
It twirls and spins in the air,
A moment of magic, beyond compare.

Each bubble, a world in miniature,
Reflecting rainbows in its curvature.
In its delicate shell, dreams are cast,
A fleeting moment, too beautiful to last.

Bubbles cluster, then drift apart,
Like notes in a symphony of art.
In their dance, they impart,
A joy that touches every heart.

But each bubble meets its end,
In a pop, its form it rends.
Yet in each ending, it sends,
A promise of new bubbles to ascend.

So here’s to bubbles, in their flight,
To their dance, their joy, their light.
In their brief life, they ignite,
A sense of wonder, pure and bright.

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