cloying

a hot air balloon boosted by the fanfaronade
of febrile fandom, of breathy nothings
not sweet so much as saccharine cloying
and though I rose to dizzying heights of affection
in a basket of charming description
it was frangible;
woven of straw by a straw man
who flipped and tipped me out
so I lost the loft
and from basket fell
as it seemed
consigned to hell
but from dejected detrusion
I rose again to climb
this time aided by one
less demonstrative than some
but whose words, though rare
were not ephemeral as air
but rock solid to stand upon
and if this time the mountain's peak I attain
I will know love real
and not another legerdemain