Clouds
Above the land, the rolling billows
Of wind-dragged cloud cast fleeting shadows,
Flicking over grey-toned landscape,
In darker patches of ephemeral shape.
Scarce noticed by the sleepy crowds,
The awesome majesty of clouds;
Soaring mountains, and rapid fleets
Manoeuvre swiftly on wind-swept sheets.
Vast battles in the skies are fought,
Fierce thunderheads, determined cohorts,
Clash and rebound, and clash once more,
Forever above, the elemental war.
And yet, despite the heavens’ wonder,
Clouds met and merged and rent asunder,
Form and re-form, again, again.
Folk glance up. Mutter “looks like rain”.
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