Treasure Island

Bob Blackwell

(29/5/1936 / Wales)

Clouds


At home the clouds have no
bottoms cut off by magic knife,
they are soft, fluffy, white and
like me have shades of grey.

Happy clouds, quiet clouds,
relaxed, not moving clouds.
Bathed in sunshine, they are
clouds I want to see.

Glad to be here clouds.
Altogether nice clouds
No place like home clouds.
Clouds I want to stay.

Submitted: Saturday, February 24, 2007
Edited: Saturday, January 22, 2011

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Comments about this poem (Clouds by Bob Blackwell )

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  • Raj Nandy (9/7/2009 3:26:00 AM)

    BOB, Beautiful thoughts! Clouds are ghost-like insubstantial beings! More transient than human beings! Changes its shapes and forms - towing a child's dream! But when suddenly they decide to join hands and unite, they drench us with showers, - the very elixir of life! 10!
    -Raj (Report) Reply

  • Cindy Kreiner Sera (5/26/2009 9:15:00 AM)

    A write as lovely as the Fluffy white clouds themselves. Today hovering over the ocean like soliers in rows, gray centres with white linings...serene....awesome (Report) Reply

  • Sandra Fowler (1/4/2009 7:16:00 AM)

    I love the pictures that the clouds create even on a gray and lowering day.
    Praise for your eloquent pen.

    Warm regards,

    Sandra (Report) Reply

  • David Harris (2/24/2007 2:16:00 PM)

    Bob, lovely fluffy white clouds. Beautifully written and lovely flow. I did like this one. Nice and easy. Another great write. Thanks for sharing it.
    David (Report) Reply

Read all 6 comments »

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