Like nomads of the sky, they roam, restless.relentless.
Their shapes and colour forever changing.
Echoeing the mood of our souls.
Dark, light, optimistic, angry.
Adventurous free.
In a moment, magically transforming from a thunderous mass.
Into delicate streaks of red and grey.
Painting the sky as if it was alimitless canvas.
On a bright summers day by noon they have disappeared.
Leaving behind an endless sea of blue.
Where the sun can dance and show off its brilliance
And we can warm ourselves in its glow.
Elaine Battersby (Elaine B)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem