I love how clouds look like draped curtains- the fairytale type.
I find it enthralling that most look like a heavy mass, puffy and angry- yet only a body of water and air.
I love how they live memories.
How they shape the sky, as if they were blankets- comforting.
How they wear and reflect the sunset.
How they never sleep, enduring long days and nights.
I love that there are so many types of clouds, almost like different races.
I love how uniquely (but simply) that they are made.
I love that they are live art, an installation.
I love that they are in this world, my world.

As lightning brights the meadow
And thunder dulls the air;
I feel it still,
A stormy chill,
An aura everywhere.

I wander o'er the pathway
And paddle through the rain;
My bootheels squash
The squelchy wash
Along the puddled lane.

My face refreshed with teardrops
The clouds have wept from high;
They gently wet
My face and yet
They barely seem to cry.

I dance on midst the moisture
The hail sends down to earth;
I sense the beat
Beneath my feet
And sing for all I'm worth.

But when the fulgid sunlight
Warms the land once more;
I'm home to you
As I step through
A rainbow's archwayed door.

ASJ

Tonight the clouds go on,
and on,
and on,
forever in a sky so navy blue.
Parallel lines
stretching beyond light's reach.
I desire
to fall up
into the dark spaces
between.

My stars, the lights of earth.

through magenta clouds
dazzling shards of eve sunlight
did cleverly cut