In summertime, the sky may be grey, as clouds converge in disarray, yet beauty hides within their mist, A tale of dreams that can't be missed.
The sun peeks through the cotton shroud, a gentle glow, so soft, and endowed, it paints the world in muted hues, a dance of shadows, changing views.
The air is cool, a sweet relief, from scorching days, a short reprieve, the gentle breeze, a tender touch, as clouded skies embrace so much.
Beneath the heavens' mellow gray, nature finds a tranquil way, to flourish, bloom, and stretch its wings, while clouds above hold precious things.
The rainfall whispers on the leaves, A lullaby that never grieves, It nurtures life, a timely gift, as the earth below begins to lift.
On cloudy days, the moments dwell, like memories, we hold so well, they teach us how to find delight, in every shade, in every light.
So let us cherish cloudy skies, for in their midst, a treasure lies, the beauty of these hazy grays, in summertime's mysterious ways.
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Comments (3)
I love your words in this poem especially 'beneath the heaven's mellow gray'. Outstanding poetry.
Love looking at the clouds.
A lovely crafted poem.