Clouds Poem by John Bannister Tabb
Clouds
Born of the waters are we,
Clean of original stain;
Fresh from the salt of the sea,
Pure from the marsh and the plain.
Borne of the Breezes above,
Whithersoever they go,
Made in a mystical love,
Mothers of Rain and of Snow.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: mothers,mystical,snow
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8/15/2026 10:51:18 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
