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, shaped 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.