Tag Archives: #Clouds

A cloud about poems

Poetry is all well and good,

when all is said and done,

and where there’s muck there’s brass,,

and words don’t come easy,


Every poem has a silver lining,

and blue-sky thinking

can often provide

the basis for an airy poem.

When the sky is limiting,

and the birds fly through,

just to peck holes in your construction,

who is to say that a rhyme is a crime?

Who? said the owl of Oswestry.

A poem about clouds

If you had to write

a poem about clouds,

how would you begin?

Would you go outside

and look at the clouds,

or would you stay in?

Could you imagine the clouds

floating above your head?

Or would you you have to espy them



“I espy with my little eye,

something beginning with C!”

Looking over a 5-bar gate

I’m looking over

a 5-bar gate

that I’ve looked over before.

And, although the scenery

has changed but a little,

I am an older man

than I used to be;

yet, not as old as I shall,

one day at a time,be.

By the way,

I see sheep

chewing the grass,

clouds scudding by,

and birds

quartering the sky.

And many other things,

which is why

I am looking over

this 5-bar gate.

Looking at Clouds

I look at the clouds;

but, I’m not so sure

that they look back at me;

and, if they did,

when looking down,

what would they think

of my observing them?

Some are shaped like running dogs,

leaping frogs, turning cogs;

most are cloud-shaped,

caped with a variety of smaller clouds

of varying hues,

traversing the skies

of cerulean blues.

There are Clouds

There are clouds hanging over

yon Caradon Hill;

like the clouds hanging over my head;

but the breeze will blow

and those clouds will go,

mine shall be with me ‘til I’m dead.

White fluffy clouds in a clear green sky

White fluffy clouds in a clear green sky

Nibbling the grass as I walked by.

The Sky

The sky

was obscured

by crowds

of clouds

all jostling

for a place

near the front.

A Convoy of Clouds

Those on the edges of a cloud convoy were more likely to be picked off when the submarines found the convoy, but, sometimes, a torpedo finding a cloud in the midst of all the others would cause a considerable amount of panic. When the structure of a cloud convoy was lost the clouds all became easy pickings.


We wandered lonely,

just like clouds,

above the ground

our duvet shrouds,

moving slowly, along, around,

to and fro,

pushed by winds,

to where we seem to want to go;

up in the breeze,

looking down upon the trees,

leisure takes us

as we please.

Chasing Butterflies

Click below to see the words with a picture – G:)


I’m chasing butterflies,

though it’s not allowed,

under the auspices

of a wandering cloud.