The Sky

Sometimes the sky is a perfect blue

With huge fluffy clouds,

Like the white fleece of sheep

And the sun shining bright and yellow,

Cheerful, joyous, youthful, happy.

Sometimes the sky is dark,

But not so dark

Like it couldn’t decide between blue and grey

So it became in-between Indecisive, unsure

Sometimes the sky is darker, With heavy clouds

And the sun nowhere in sight

But it doesn’t breakdown.

At other times, it does,

Then it rains,

And shouts

And screams Out loud

Sad, and lonely, and all alone.

Sometimes the sky is wild

With flashes of lightning

And the clouds all fierce

And grey and moody

Angry and full Of spirit.

Sometimes, in the evenings,

When the sun sets In the horizon,

The sky turns pink

And peach and lilac

Innocent and soft and sweet

And not pretty, but beautiful Instead.

Sometimes the sky Has small clouds

Like Little islands

With the golden rays of the sun,

Like the water in between:

Calm and faithful

And understanding.

Sometimes the sky is pretty

Some other times funny

Sometimes, it is boring

And its moods are many

But the sky is one,

And the sky

Is me.