CLOUDS
See the clouds roll across the blue sky
Mostly white but some sullen grey ones go by,
I wonder do they have a will of their own,
Choose when to rain, or where they are blown.
Logic says it is in the different barometric pressure,
They have no say in the different moods of weather ,
But I would like to think that they can always choose
When and where their sweet rain they want to loose.
They look down and see a wedding just taking place,
So they hang onto the rain to keep a smile on each face,
Then they may see newly planted plants beginning to wilt,
So just a little corner of a small cloud they gently tilt.
They see a busy highway people travelling too and fro
And a heavy rain storm they really don’t want to show,
So the clouds float a little higher so it will not start to rain,
For when it comes down hard driving can be quite a pain.
But sometimes when all the clouds turn the darkest grey
The rain is almost impossible for them to carry away,
But sometimes the bossy barometric pressure will succeed,
And the clouds want to choose but they cannot intercede.
Then in torrents the clouds give all that they possibly can,
Every now and then it is part of natures wonderful plan,
But I still like to think of the clouds as dear friends of mine,
Maybe there are others around who don’t want the sun to shine.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson 6 May 2006