Why not send us your own cloud poetry? Remember to include your full name and where you live.
From Amy Lucas
Genus stratus lies low in the hills
Waiting for strays and lost wills...
Poetry From Year 4, St John’s College School
Would you think a person was crazy if they told you a cloud was pink?
From Ellie (aged 9)
Sunset In the blue canvas of the sky Painted with blue and white Bright feathers of the sky, slashed with pink Suspended in light Riding in the colourful space I am the artist of the world Ellie (aged 9) St John’s College School, Cambridge, UK (you can also read the other poems by pupils from […]
From Mia (aged 8)
Clouds The voice of the sun Told me to bring my paints out To paint the sky. To shape the clouds With my skilful brushstrokes White wisps Scarlet smudges Pink pinpricks An endless task lies ahead of me The clouds busy forming From my restless hands The shy filling and unfilling Blue over white over […]
From Freddie (aged 9)
Canvas of Blue Sky Earth’s chiffon scarf Everlastingly changed Being stretched along this blue canvas of eternity God With his giant paintbrush Never running out On this cerulean ceiling Of the sky Freddie (aged 9) St John’s College School, Cambridge, UK (you can also read the other poems by pupils from St John’s College School)
From Indrani Ananda
MAGONIA – THE CITY IN THE CLOUDS I see a crystal city all of blue moonlight and fashioned out of air; I see the men who walk there and they are beautiful and wear gold on their hair; I see their ships of Elven light Sailing in the silver night, Calling to me …. Above […]
From Sheila Sansom
The Sky Painter What wouldn’t I give to be ‘The Sky Painter’ My canvas as vast as the heavens. My brush strokes commanding the weather. Delicate washes Extravagant oils. A rainbow pallet exploding with joy. What wouldn’t I give to be ‘The Sky Painter’ © Sheila Sansom
From Sue Shaw
Send In The Clouds ( Can be sung to ‘Modern Major General’ from ‘Pirates of Penzance’ by Gilbert & Sullivan) I’ve seen Dolphins, ladies underwear, a dragon and a vampire bat, Cupid with his quiver, Abra’m Lincoln in his stovepipe hat, Giant rabbits, puffin head, A laughing man sat up in bed, Pteranadon above the […]
From Ernesto Vargas Rueda
Dreams. Every once in a while elements plot in the steam of someone’s sight. And there grows something so fragile that it becomes transparent. It is so transparent that one can take a deep glance. An in the depths it is white… so white that it’s simply pure. Every once in a while throw your […]
