Roz Bacon shared this poem, written by her friend, Jean Ratcliffe (member 46247) who, at the age of 93, enjoys the clouds from her window.

Lying back in my reclining chair;
In the garden for a breath of fresh air
And looking above at the vast expanse of sky
At the ever-changing family of clouds floating by.
A veritable feast for the eye.

There are delicate white frills, like lace doyleys,
Or sprays of feathers shaped by the breeze,
A canopy of design with a frieze.
Then lovely white billows like tufts of cotton wool,
But some dark grey or puce in colour.
If from one of these drops of rain,
I shall need my umbrella.
At sunset a pallet of wonderful colour,
The sky resembles a painting by Monet.

Imagine the blue canopy, a complete reversal,
It would seem like foam on the waves of the sea.
So with my paint box or pastels,
I could record and enjoy such variety of thermals.
So thank you to the Society of Cloud Appreciation,
As a subject and help at times of meditation.

© Jean Ratcliffe (93 years old), Autumn 2019