It forms shapes and puzzles
Which still create a wonder.
Horses and dragons they create,
Puffed up like snow.
On days, goes they missing,
Filling the sky with blue;
It extends till the horizon,
With nothing yet to dream.
By then, the clouds are back-
Getting more playful.
They cover the sun at times,
Sudden shower otherwise.
Where do they go, these forms,
So mysteriously made?
Maybe to the nearby village,
Having tales to say.
Clouds are really magical.In the poet's eye, like horses, dragon, and snow...haveing tales to say - as you poemed in your work. Beautiful.I enjoyed your piece.
It's a pleasure to hear from you Cizeng. I got the same feel from your poem bubbles
Your poem reminds me of my childhood days..thank you for sharing such a lovely poem
Childhood days are memorable throughout our life. Thanks for reading my poem.
Very unique poems. Perhaps no one had imagined the shape of cloud. Nicely penned. I wonder how did you get such beautiful conception. Wish you all the best. Keep writing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Where do they go, these forms, So mysteriously made? Maybe to the nearby village, Having tales to say.... beautiful.
Thanks a lot