Blithe golden cloud, that once tugged at my heart strings enigmatic pubescent,warm master work of raising steam, you did drift too low, to be real for my sun scorched world but deliberately pretended cold,when I waved, repeatedly, I ardently wooed, to the alarm of your admirers, a legion how I longed for the secrets, you whispered,know you more aren't you fire within, that burns heart,lightening concealed? Formed in sensual, undulating softness, hiding, fiery desires?
I waited, for you to touch ground, as you promised,to explore being naive, you inadvertently tangled with the tree branches! Obstructive self seekers,who craftily trapped you in thickets and little by little, in grey strands you vanished in thin air... A lesson to all straying cloudlets,I had to be sadly a witness.