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