I lay on my back and watch the clouds in the Summer blue sky
They transform their visual being constantly
They can be studded like pebbles along a seashore
Or they can seem to explode like a nuclear mushroom.
Whispy and mystical, constantly altering
You could almost call them emotional
Their meanderings seeming to climax
Up in the heavens, their realm.
Unpredictable like the sea
Never two visions of sky shall be the same.
Their rhythm is peaceful like trees gently asway
Almost hypnotic these changelings
With little imagination to the naked eye
They form shapes, realities we know.
As I watch there is a commotion
Struggling, changing something is going to blow
Boiling, tumultous, billowy expanses
Climax is imminent.
Then suddenly this motion finally ceases
The turmoil has blown away
And once again the skies are clear.
PLEASE BE KIND IN YOUR CRITISM ME FIRST ATTEMPT AT FREE VERSE AND I DON'T LIKE IT!!
A hero is a man who does what he can.
(The Fragile Rose)