O, how vast and grand the sky!
Lad basking in field of rye,
Gazing through inquiring eye,
As he views clouds floating by.

Days full of games with bubbies,
Keen on make believe and races
Wondering and dreaming how,
Clouds can form beast or flower.

Pretend of boy on a lawn,
Sometimes the clouds cloak the sun,
Cloud formations slowly fade,
As each vanishes, more are made.

Clouds oft seem just o’er the trees,
Almost touching their green leaves,
White puffs against the blue sky,
As cotton candy in a boy’s eye.

Wispy clouds in carefree prance,
Wind like the maker of dance,
Creating scenes in the sky,
A daydreaming lad’s delight.

As sculptor, like no other,
Child’s imaginative eye,
Sees what there’s to discover,
In fleecy clouds floating by.