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.
Vera Sidhwa's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Cloud by Vera Sidhwa )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 February 1970-)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
William Ernest Henley
(1849 - 1902)
(22 March 1941 -)
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