If you look up on a sunny day,

You see marshmallows drift away,

well at least that's what the clouds look like,

when the sun is shinning gold and bright.

At times they look like cyclones,

without their tips,

like floating islands

with the ocean at their hips,

like a snowstorm frozen in one place,

or a mist of white dust,

from a horse riding towards space.

A silky blue fabric spread out under cotton,

like the scenery of when a fairy is born,

the magical land from which it's torn,

sings it's own song as nature sings it's own.