I stare
Glaring
Up high
At the sky.
My eyes
Flying
Like birds
See clouds
They're not loud.
They remind me of smoke
And our not made out of oak
And in my mind
Like pepper that grinds
The thought that pops into my mind are
Is It Nice In The Clouds?
I let my mind wander
And find
Myself dreaming about clouds that are pillows
I let my mind wander
And find
Myself wondering if clouds are actually cities in the sky
I let my mind wander
And find
Myself dreaming that clouds are sheep
And still
Like a hill
The hurricane question in my mind
To this day
Continues to be
Is it nice in the clouds?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poetry. So many questions about the clouds and nicely woven words to make it an interesting poem. 'And still Like a hill The hurricane question in my mind To this day Continues to be Is it nice in the clouds? '... is a very nice stanza. Thanks for sharing Emily. Have a blessed day.