Dancing on the Clouds
Oh to flit among the blue skies, let my arms swing high and wide, feel winds blowing thru my hair, and find a cloud on which to ride.
Soaring above the ground high, like the glorious Golden Eagle, over high mountain I would fly, oh how great and oh so regal.
To be dancing in the clouds, what freedom I would treasure, far above the gathering crowds, It'd be such a wondrous pleasure.
Alas, us being grounded here, on a space we call our Earth, I guess being mortal though, I fear It could be so much worse.
Thus, I will continue to dream, like most dreamers always do, perhaps of being a moonbeam, wrapped in a dark sky of blue.
How I love to watch the clouds, peacefully, peacefully drifting by, silently upon the breeze, they ease across the clear blue sky.
How they build and roll and tumble, just like angels out to play, dancing with the sylphs and fairies, head o'er heels along the way.
Each new shape is quite amusing, puffs to great majestic towers, building for their loving gift, to bless the earth with vital showers.