We are fluffy
      not stuffy,
we are bright,
       not dull,
we can be
      the lull,
before the storm.

More on that later, after the news.

Reflecting white light and we become bright,
pile us on one another a collective of light,
and airy, we don't take our selves serious,
we are much lower to the ground than cirrus.

Please don't let what I have to say cloud your judgement in anyway!

We are piling up to be the top of the heap
want recognition for the sunny day, around noon
living it large looking the part too,
we are the flat bottomed cotton *****.

We are the fairest of the fair, but beware as the day advances,
we may get bigger, darker taller and you take your chances,
to be about and about, there may be a change in the atmosphere,
how is that anxiety about thunder and lightening dear?

From cotton to solid rock tall,
from mole hill to mountain,
thirty thousand feet is all,
hope you don't mind if we take turns
blowing through, easy to find us
no fuss, look for the Jekyll and Hyde
you know the Cumulus Stuff.