Sky Poem

I live in Honesdale,Pa. Eighty-two years old. Wrote the poem probably 30 years ago. Always fascinated by white clouds moving across the sky.

White Clouds

© Gene Tagle
High flying fleet of billowy boats,
Quietly cruising celestial seas.

Windblown wads in whimsical shapes,
Gracefully riding the heavenly breeze.

White-robed Bedouins bound to the sky,
Wandering aimlessly out of my view.

Would that my cares could be as the clouds,
Lifted, wafted, lost in the blue.

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