CLOUDPLAY

by Daniel Errico

Everyday nightly, the clouds get together.

They all float with ease, since they’re light as a feather.

They form into shapes, like a man molding clay,

And they laugh at each other because that’s how they play.

The wind swirls around and it sets them off spinning,

While the moon keeps an eye on them, constantly grinning.

And the stars start to twinkle and whistle a tune,

Which never gets old for the ocean and moon.

The waves applaud loudly by crashing the shore,

While the trees grow up higher to listen some more.

If you wander outside and you look up by chance,

You may catch the clouds in the midst of their dance.

But you have to be quick, because clouds move along,

And they float through the sky at the end of the song.

They drift all directions, this way and that,

The fluffy clouds, droopy clouds, skinny and fat.

And when each of them settles in its own patch of sky,

They’re sad that it’s over, and some of them cry.

A tear from a cloud is not like yours or mine.

It falls from the sky in a very straight line.

It wets all the grass and it splashes the lakes.

And the animals love all the sounds that it makes.

We know those tears by their other name- rain.

(If you ask me, that word is entirely too plain.)

So remember, the next time the clouds cry at night,

The dance is now over and it’s time to sleep tight!