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
Nibbling the grass as I walked by.
The sky
was obscured
by crowds
of clouds
all jostling
for a place
near the front.
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.
Click below to see the words with a picture – G:)
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=434810980417852&set=a.200245313874421&type=3&sfns=mo
I’m chasing butterflies,
though it’s not allowed,
under the auspices
of a wandering cloud.
©️graemesandford.com
☁️ x – From a cloud’s perspective
“I was just floating along
minding my own business
when this geezer spots me;
he starts purple prosing me,
in like a poetic way;
he gets all rhymey and rhythmic-like…
Well, I wanted to breeze on out of there;
but, I was just floating around
over the ‘ills and the vales;
not much I could do really,
just had to wait for the old Zephyr to pick up
and blow me out of there.
He waffles on for a while, and then…
well I’ll be blowed
he decides to call his poem ‘Daffodils!’
I mean, I started it off,
what’s wrong with ‘Cloud’ as a title?
Wish I hadn’t bothered catching his eye –
ingrate!”
I watch the clouds pass by,
they seem to know where it is that they are going;
although different parts of the clouded sky
do appear to be travelling in different directions.
I consider lengthily the possibilities
of a cloud’s destination,
and I am visibly moved;
even though I am standing still,
and they have gone.
The castle I saw can be seen here. G:)
The crumbling ruins
of the cloud castles in the sky
catch my attention
as I walk
and they drift by;
fallen battlements
a testament to many battles fought;
whether lost or won
I know naught.
I was walking along
looking at the sky
as I do
when I saw a cloud,
a cloud in the shape
… of a cloud.
Not in the shape of a bird
or a penguin
(which is also a bird)
although there were a few of them flying around
(birds, not penguins)
but cloud-shaped;
then there was another
and another
all similar
but different
in their own cloudy way.
And I thought upon the clouds
then wrote this.
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