Clouds
Silvered wisps,
diaphanous, floating 'neath
the ether, flying high like
prophesies from God.
Black forbidding masses
rumbling out their message,
jagged bolts of lightning
rend the air.
Innocuous or deadly,
oft they're in disguise;
it would behoove us all
to heed the skies.
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment