Have you watched the clouds this year?
Have you noticed the many changes, the diverse colours, the drift
And dance and jump and falling away? Have you seen
The gallant scarlet, the gentle pink, the sky
Black and purple and almost green and always
Turning inside out,
Turning and twisting and writhing and seldom still?
But when it is a glory, a feast galore,
It is like the rolling over of foam on the shore,
It is like a mountain-range, the Alps, maybe,
It is what you want to see.
And what you never imagined could be, it is
A glamour, a glory of air, such bold sunsets,
Such risings up in the East. A folding of clouds
Is kind to the eyes, is a painted lullaby.
And there are few words to say why
Colours and ruffs and bubbles and bold balloons
Take our hearts, lift our spirits and glow
In our faster-beating hearts, in our minds also.
We need new words for the sky.
By
Elizabeth Jennings
