Looking at the clouds I felt,
high above they peacefully dwelt.
Clouds in different shades of grey,
rains on earth when farmers pray.
Slowly the grey turns to white,
allowing the sun to pass its light.
Like easing grief, the grey lightens,
as above the blue sky brightens.
Some clouds will kiss the earth,
while some will surely sail by.
Rain that in clouds took birth,
to ease farmers will have a try.
Prasenjit©1997-2012
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