INTRODUCTION
June 5th marks the anniversary of the first hot air balloon flight in the year 1783 in France. (Show a picture of an old-fashioned hot air balloon.) Can you imagine what it must have been like to soar that high above the ground or see a hot air balloon for the first time? Remember, that in 1783 there were no airplanes or helicopters – not even cars!
POEM
Balloon
By Sylvia Cassedy
Here, way up here,
in this box sort of thing,
slung in a tangle
of crisscrossed strings,
I dangle,
I hang.
Just over my head,
like a bubble of talk
in a joke-book cartoon,
is a giant balloon.
A moon
is embroidered in red
on its skin.
A hawk-nosed moon
whose single horn
meets, greets
a thorn-sharp chin.
Stars are there, too,
cross-stitched in blue,
and a sun:
a high-noon sun
with gold-spun cheek
and squint-eyed grin.
moon, sun,
a streak of stars:
they are a message I send,
my bubble of talk,
to you,
to my friend far below,
as I go to the end of the sky.
And soon, clung
to a balloon of your own,
you reply:
“mountain, field, sea,”
you say, in a bubble of talk to me.
“ocean, road, stone.”
June 5th marks the anniversary of the first hot air balloon flight in the year 1783 in France. (Show a picture of an old-fashioned hot air balloon.) Can you imagine what it must have been like to soar that high above the ground or see a hot air balloon for the first time? Remember, that in 1783 there were no airplanes or helicopters – not even cars!
POEM
Balloon
By Sylvia Cassedy
Here, way up here,
in this box sort of thing,
slung in a tangle
of crisscrossed strings,
I dangle,
I hang.
Just over my head,
like a bubble of talk
in a joke-book cartoon,
is a giant balloon.
A moon
is embroidered in red
on its skin.
A hawk-nosed moon
whose single horn
meets, greets
a thorn-sharp chin.
Stars are there, too,
cross-stitched in blue,
and a sun:
a high-noon sun
with gold-spun cheek
and squint-eyed grin.
moon, sun,
a streak of stars:
they are a message I send,
my bubble of talk,
to you,
to my friend far below,
as I go to the end of the sky.
And soon, clung
to a balloon of your own,
you reply:
“mountain, field, sea,”
you say, in a bubble of talk to me.
“ocean, road, stone.”
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Cassedy, Sylvia. 1993. Zoomrimes: poems about things that go. New York: HarperCollins. ISBN 0060226331
EXTENSION
Show the children several examples of concrete poems. Then present a large outline of a hot air balloon. Ask what words children would add to the picture to turn it into a concrete poem. Give each child a stack of small Post-it notes. Have them write words describing either a part of the balloon or a motion of the balloon or a feeling they might experience in the balloon and put their papers on the picture.
Photo courtesy of http://images.search.yahoo.com/.
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