There are clouds for every season

suiting natures every whim

they touch us with a passion

as we hearken to their hymn.

Spring skies smile

they bear the seasons joke

fleets of cheeky shower clouds

ready to burst and soak.

Summer skies smoulder

pregnant clouds of thunder

frowning down upon us

ready to rend asunder.

Autumn skies assume

a benign and gentle face

clouds of glowing white

born of elegance and grace.

Winter skies wallow

in pitiless shades of grey

clouds glower and menace 

threatening, wild and fay

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