Cloud Eight Poem by Genevieve Pilat

Drifting high up in the sky
Watching clouds pass slowly by
Wanting to be on top of clouds above
And find my happiness, peace and love.

Cloud nine it’s called; I think it’s so
Where those that search will surely go
I too search hoping cloud nine will elate
And yet instead find I’m on cloud eight.

Not quite cloud nine, one step below
How to reach cloud nine I do not know
It seems that others had found their way
Yet how to get there they will not say.

It looks real nice, it seems so grand
I reach out forward stretch my hand
And try to grab a piece of cloud
It’s almost if I’m not allowed.

Cloud nine it seems as I’ve observed
Is more a place that is reserved
Only a select can get there no fee
I guess cloud eight is where I’m meant to be.