Glancing out our western window, toward the Ocean beyond some hills,
I see, near sundown, a layering of assorted clouds, like alternating color spills;
shades of gray this November day, plus white, and some almost resembling amber.
It makes me imagine a playing field over which winged-angels might clamber.
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A beautiful poem on near sunset. Like that of an expert photographer, your eyes have captured the scene in all its loveliness, and you perpetuated the image through your camera lens! A celestial scene where you imagine angels of heaven clambering around! Though lacking your usual humorous air, it has a special beauty!
Clouds...sky...different colours, shapes, shades. I love clouds. And a very descriptive poem. I hope your wife liked the photos. George
Bri, Inclusion.., not a sin. Sometimes the I's have it. QtR