The cloud, it floated,
On top of the land.
It shifted in the wind,
And made shadows on my hand.
I wondered about the beauty,
If it meant anything to anyone.
It wafted over land and water.
Where it traveled, it didn't matter.
It wanted adventure, so true,
It moved across the sky so blue.
I turned around to see it climb,
And saw it and heaven, sweetly entwine.
In colors of blue and white,
About which my glad,
Pen would write.
Comments about this poem (Cloud by Vera Sidhwa )
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