Cloud
March 2001
A poem about weather
Cloud comes on days that darkness looms
With smoke from chimneys in white plumes.
No blue between those drab grey sheep
That covers the skies like big white sheets.
Rain, sleet and white snow
From the heavens does flow.
Around the house the wind does wail
Foretelling of a chilling gale.
Gales howl and often moan
Walkers wish they were at home.
Gladness comes around the fire
A scrum of pets there retires.
Sunny days are just ahead
But for now, stay in bed!
Elinor Tuffnell (aged 11)