Blimp

A city sight I sometimes spy
Floats, barely moving, in the sky.
It seems cartoonish in its shape
And causes everyone to gape.

It circles slowly, like a shark,
To locate what it’s meant to mark:
A football game or tennis match
Or clash its cameras hope to catch.

Its mission’s not a mystery;
It’s up there strictly for TV,
In silent slither through the skies
To search for scoops with raptor’s eyes.

Reporters on the ground bring news
But they don’t have those sky-high views;
For aerial’s the way to go
When you are putting on a show.

And we who watch, indoors or out,
Enjoy its journey, there’s no doubt.
I’m glad the networks do not skimp
When they have access to a blimp.