Nick Houvras, Member 7,367 sent us his poem “A Wish”

Image: Crepuscular Rays over Somerset, England © Helen Crawley

A Wish

Don’t you wish you were a cloud?

Flying free where ever the wind sent you!

Looking down from up above on sunny ground!

Or wet leaves you sent your water to.

And then you slowly disappear from the heavens that held you.

Just as the earth holds us we too go with or without a sin.

But everyone asks where did that cloud go?

And so do all of us here now on Mother Earth!

© Nick Houvras, 2023

Minnie Biggs, Member 4,330, recently sent her poem about the skies over Bhutan, which is situated on the Himalayas’ eastern edge. We’ve accompanied it with an image from Michael Ellis “Aladdin’s lamp spotted over Bhutan, South Asia“

Go to Bhutan

Cloud heaven
we are looking at the clouds in the distance
we are below the clouds
we are in the middle of the clouds
We are above the clouds,
Looking at more clouds
in the clouds is different
Than above or below
Wet damp not rain wet
And the mountains
That meet the clouds
Embrace the clouds
Are embraced by the clouds
Intermingle with the clouds
seldom one without the other
In Bhutan
Clouds
Heaven

© Minnie Biggs

Simon Rickman, a cloud enthusiast, was inspired by our Cloud Poetry section to send us a Haiku he wrote a few years ago.  He also sent the featured photograph taken on 7th April 2023 near his home in the UK.

purposed clouds glide by
on missions to somewhere else
leaving me behind

© Simon Rickman

Kathy Miles is a poet living in West Wales; her fourth full collection was published by Indigo Dreams in 2020.  This is a poem she wrote about Luke Howard with a photograph by Jan Boles of Anti-crepuscular rays over Idaho, US.

Cloud-Whisperer
after Luke Howard, 1802

He named them because he could.
For the thrill of cirrus on his tongue,
cumulus and stratus a banquet
on the palate. Obsession ached
inside him, the need to claim
and classify. The logic of shape.

He envied their resolve,
the purpose that kept them feral,
wandering from place to place
like nomads, always heading
to the next clear patch of sky
that argued its blue emptiness.

Seeing them submerged in sea
or lake, he wanted to raise
them like a grounded swift,
throw them high as he could,
then call them back to his side
by the names that he had gifted.

Now I watch their floss and bustle,
like a woman hurrying to work
worries building inside her; ragged
fractus, weary with the day,
shapeshifting into mist, keeping
its nose to the grindstone.

Their bellies are full of storm
and fire, while mine has emptied
of passion. I think of the man who
organised the skies; how nothing
pleased him more than waking
to quilts of nimbus, cirrostratus.

© Kathy Miles 2023

Chuck Metcalfe, Member 61,468, sent us a poem he wrote in November 2023 and a photograph he took at his camp in Stockton, New York, that inspired it.

Ladder to the Clouds

If I could build a ladder to the clouds, we could climb so high into the sky.
We could frolic and play, and stay all day, just the two of us;
while we jump and bounce from Stratus to Cumulus.
We might sing and dance on Altostratus; or perchance ride the mares’ tails of Cirrus Uncinus .
Amongst the Cirrus we would search freely in, until we find a parhelion; petting that sundog we could do, and maybe see its halo too.
Nimbostratus would not ruin our day, if above the rain we were able to stay.
Even Cumulonimbus with its flashy show would look different from above you know.
We would have our own park without the crowds, if I could build a ladder to the clouds.

© 11/17/2023 Chuck Metcalfe

Leah is a cloud enthusiast who regularly watches the clouds from her window at work. 

Image:  Fibratus over Yarra Glen, Australia by Phil Chapman

Whispers in the Sky

Soft whispers drift in endless skies,
Where clouds like dreams in silence rise.
They dance in hues of white and gray,
A gentle pause in life’s busy day.

They paint the dawn in shades of gold,
A canvas vast, a story told.
By noon they gather, thick and deep,
Guarding secrets that they keep.

At dusk, they blush in twilight’s glow,
As day concedes to night’s soft flow.
In moonlit nights, they softly glide,
A silver veil where stars can hide.

Transient, free, they roam the blue,
Ephemeral as morning dew.
They teach us that to drift and roam,
Is sometimes how we find our home.

Vyacheslav Konoval is a poet from Kyiv, Ukraine. Many of his poems have been translated into Spanish, French, Italian and Polish but this is one he wrote in English for CAS members to enjoy.

Image: “A Sunset over Kiev, Ukraine” © Vera Uzhva

A dark blue cloud crawls across the sky

A dark blue cloud crawls across the sky,
It rains every day.
As if punishment is pouring from God.

Fluffy fresh caresses,
crowded street of
stockpiled ice fragments.

My body doesn’t obey
It seemed to be dozing,
limps tiredly in laziness.

© Vyacheslav Konoval

Sue Shaw, Member 55,742, is enjoying her membership of the Cloud Appreciation Society.  She told us she’s been travelling  lately and watching a lot of lumpy clouds and finding shapes and faces almost endlessly.  It inspired her to write the two poems below.  She says  they are “similar, but different— and are products of that shape finding”

Image:  A Cumulus elephant spotted over Geelong, Victoria, Australia spotted by Heather Prince

Clouds Change and Rearrange!

It can take a cloud but seconds
To change its shape or place…
To re-form from a castle
To a dragon or a face!

Why…with a lot of lumpy clouds
You can read a fairy tale.
By looking all across the sky
In a zig-zag sort of trail.

There’s a princess in a lovely gown
And the castle…her abode…
The alligator in the moat
The prince…but as a toad!

There’s a puppy and a kitten
And a flying bird or two…
A monster and a gremlin…
All in shades of white on blue!

You can create a story line
By reading what is there,
With just imagination
And ice crystals in the air!

To play ‘pretend’ is so much fun
With daydreams in your mind
When you relax and watch the clouds…
But be careful, for you’ll find

That if you wait, your cast will change,
And the players that you’ve got…
Will all drift off and fade away…
And you’ll need a brand new plot!

Faces?

There are faces in the clouds–
Monsters wrapped in stormy shrouds…
Or a laughing, pug nosed leprechaun,
Or someone with a top hat on!

An alligator–snout and eyes
A giant fish–a whale-sized prize!
Dogs and puppies, kittens, cats
Birds, a butterfly and bats!

Castles, towers…places where
Rapunzel might let down her hair!
Realistic or a fantasy…perhaps some fairy tales
Where dragons and white unicorns have golden horns and scales!

Just sit back on a cloud-rich day
And let your mind run wild
It doesn’t matter what your age–
A Senior, teen, or child….

When you’re in a laid back situation
With just a bit of imagination…
Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!…
Are carved in the clouds of a summer sky!

© Sue Shaw

Melanie McDowell, Member 58,909 thoroughly enjoys her membership of the Cloud Appreciation Society.  She told us “I am a poet and a lot of my poetry takes inspiration from the ever changing West of Ireland skies.  I also love reading others’ poetry, both contemporary and classic.  During Covid, I began the practice of choosing a word and poem for each day so I have built up a large bank of poetry, a lot of it sky inspired”.   We’ve paired her poem with an image by Tom Jenner, “A fair weather cloud day over Valentia Island in the south west of Ireland”

Home Turf
Sky thick as cream.
Ski slope clouds
lean into mountains.
Whitethorn bends arms
laden with blossom.
Grass banks quiver green.
Algaed mountain pass
through clods of cloud.
Rain reassures its patter.
Tarmacadam river
sheens purple.
Fuschia bells just
starting to ring out.
Mall Go Slow.
Rough as turf,
home.

© Melanie McDowell