Sonnet 28, Clouds in the Sky

Clouds in the sky they are made out of love,
Nature is the artist magnificent;
Everything there, isn't heavy and above,
And made rather fluffy in the distant.
I guess everybody has a dream cloud,
Where there's a wishing rainbow coming to shine;
Though sometimes we are in doubt, and not allowed,
To know where it is, cause the weaving's so fine.
All unwritten love's upon a cloud somewhere,
Just waiting for us to go and catch it;
And we, equally waiting for love to share,
Just step by step, and little bit by bit.
Cupid's flying about with his arrows,
Giving happy moments - drying sorrows...


by Peter S Quinn