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Like little cotten balls of wool that float through summer skies,
As inspiration to their thoughts, blue background and a breeze,
Makes mankind think of how God gave us gifts to make us wise,
And pass that summer afternoon in thoughtful gifts that please.

Then come the Autumn clouds of grey that water all the earth,
With goodness for the fields and trees replenishing the soil,
Obscured by golden leaves that fall, and teasing us with mirth,
After the fires are lit at night to give us rest from toil.

The Winter clouds turn whiter filled with fluffy snow that falls,
Down to the earth to cleanse and cloak the garden for protection,
The birds have gone, the trees are bare, the night owl seldom calls,
And human nature can reflect in quiet contemplation.

Spring clouds bring hope to skies that promise of the life to come,
No longer the opressive cloud, though pretty clouds instead,
When trees begin to come to life, and all the birdies hum,
As that snow starts to melt and the first crocus rears it's head.

Learn more about this author, Dave Franklin.
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