Apologies. This was to be Friday’s poem, but I missed posting it. So today I’m putting this up now and Mye: The World Elsewhere shall arrive in the afternoon.
Until then, enjoy.
Clouds shaded in the perfect grey,
With Angels leaning on their shoulders,
Like sunbeams, watching the world below,
Jesting with their fellows about cold days.
The rain hasn’t come just yet though,
And the winds carry the grey away,
Thus we are spared a cold days shower,
And the Angels head somewhere else to play.