Feelings Poem - On the trampoline

On the tramp

I hear... The chatter of the children before class,
The squeak of the springs as I skip,
And the stomp of the gymnasts as they jump.
I see… The students slide into splits,
Somersaults through the air,
And the rosy red cheeks of the five years olds running around,
so, so near.
I feel... Like my legs are going to fall,
My arms are swinging low,
Who would have known that flying high and low would tire me to such a length.
I want… To spring to the sky so very high,
To somersault into the sea,
And to rest below the big blue blanket of the one and only sea.
I wonder… Will I nail a full twist,
Or even a half will do,
I wonder what it would be like to flip all the way to the moon.
On the tramp.

By Zeda