Clouds

The clouds play out their dramas,

As they scurry across the sky.

All shapes and sizes,

Even faces,

In my mind’s eye.

They hug the hills with mist sometimes,

Or blend into golden, blood-red, blue tinged

Sunsets.

Cloud castles,

Ocean liners on a pure glass sea.

An endless variety of forms,

From dull featureless grey

To swirling poetry.

Different every day.

Paul Butters

(Thanks for looking, dear reader. Do feel free to comment and scroll down for more poems. Pop back any-time you feel like a read. Remember, poetry is to be sipped and savoured, not gulped down. There are 18 more poems below this one).