With my old rod I am fishing, sitting waiting wishing; That those watery folk below, were not my rig a’missing...

What can we truly say? To try encapsulate; The marvel of the changing sky With colours so divine?...

You belong to what? How sweet How English...

I've seen castles in the sky wild geese as they fly...

Perched on high above the sprawl I take it in the endless crawl...

I wish clouds could speak I would send you words in fluffy streaks...

Amongst the chaos high above Endless clouds they push and shove...

Pannus lurk, ominous on the horizon, Somewhere in the haze...

I miss the mist That hangs high...