I walk the morning, the air has a chill and a breeze,
Out in the distance above the hills, they float like balloons.
Shapes or sizes and colors of difference,
Splashed across the sky are painted clouds.
Vanish, they go away for a moment in time,
Reinvented, shapes from heaven above.
Pastel colors appeared in my sight,
Rays of light from the sun trying to peek through.
An invisible smile, a memory of a face sketched,
Forever in my mind eyes of beauty, a voice that echoes,
Through the clouds.