Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2013
No clouds at all, winter, spring, summer or fall,
Tells the weather watcher no change at all,
Cirrus my friend with a fair weather bent,
Your swirls, streaks and curls, so very high,
when there are just a few of you, goodness is nigh,
but when you gaggle in bunches and take and
curl your lip to show your ornery sides and swirl in the cold,
I am told through the white and cold grey, BLIZZARD!
                              get in doors or receive a frosty reception.
Ottar
Written by
Ottar  where you will find me
(where you will find me)   
2.4k
   Claire R and bex
Please log in to view and add comments on poems