There are clouds for every season
suiting natures every whim
they touch us with a passion
as we hearken to their hymn.
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Spring skies smile
they bear the seasons joke
fleets of cheeky shower clouds
ready to burst and soak.
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Summer skies smoulder
pregnant clouds of thunder
frowning down upon us
ready to rend asunder.
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Autumn skies assume
a benign and gentle face
clouds of glowing white
born of elegance and grace.
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Winter skies wallow
in pitiless shades of grey
clouds glower and menace
threatening, wild and fay
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