Clouds

This is the third in the "Airplane" Series. I actually saw this scene out the window. I gotta' be honest with you, I don't much like this poem. It's kinda' cheesy.

Every time I get the chance
To view humans the size of ants -
That is, to be way up in the sky,
In other words, I mean, to fly,
I always look in pure delight
To the window, revealing splendour white.
Or clouds, as they are more commonly known.
I hope, in this passtime, I'm not alone.

I hope I'm not alone because
The feeling I get really truly does
Desire to be shared with many
People looking upon that sight with any
Emotion, or thought, or concept of bliss
That cannot be equaled in hug or kiss.

Indeed this sight inspires peace
And makes me think of fluffy fleece.
Or snowy hills and snowy trees,
Or misty, roiling, frothy seas.
A sight so fine and undeclared
Really truly must be shared.

I hope you've understood all I've shared
And hope that really you haven't cared
That I didn't really say anything
Important, or worth mentioning.
Except to discourse on the only thing
That ever really made my mind want to sing.
If this makes sense to you the viewer
Please clarify for me I'm rather unsure.