I look outside to see,

the clouds crying endlessly.

The trees bend to and fro,

and the animals have failed to show.

A once blue sky now gray,

the children cannot play.



The sky pours forth it's anger,

with bolts of yellow thunder.

All the while, I am covered,

in my warm blanket am I under.

When the weeping of the sky has ceased,

I tiptoe softly to the window again and see,



The sky blue once again,

the children playing with their friends.

The clouds white again, like fleece,

the birds chirping in the trees.


(random poetry that came to me today :)

shalom,
  Sarah