Fluffy white clouds scurry past the window,
I watch, wishing I could fly like a bird.
The sky is a clean Cornish blue,
Not a blemish or any other hue.
A layer of clouds lie below
while more surround us.
The world waits far below,
All calm and silent.
No strife nor men’s vices
Can be seen from such heights.
And then, it’s all over
We come rushing down
while the world rushes up to meet us.
The wheels touch down and
there ends, our time in the clouds.
Didn’t have much to do during the two-hour flight to Mumbai. Thankfully the clouds provided some inspiration and out came the words. Tweaked a line or two to use it as a response to today’s Daily Prompt.