Gen Cloud Ninety-Nine Poem by Mill Field

Gen Cloud Ninety-Nine



Aboard and at ease on Cloud Ninety-nine,
I plump up a pillow and gently recline;
Say a short prayer and farewell to the world
And drift off to sleep like a kitten soft curled;

Should my barque beach on Time's sandy shore,
I'll take up an oar and cast off once more.

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