Made by tendered hands with papers and sticks
folds and creased in crisscrosses and a wish.
Dreams soon to fly floating up above Earth
assumed as the wings; as had, Daedalus.
A simple kite; to some, had proved their worth
takes patience and a certain care, to work.
Shown years ago that this and that will do
to a gaze tautly strung with wistful mirth.
These moments become memories anew
flown through airs of clouds and sapphire blue.
To eyes wide and raised to the heavens splayed
blessed Father's son: a paper kite, life's glue.
~ an EWK Interlocking Rubaiyat Poe'em ©ericwk