Clouds of every shape, as I settle on the ground,
There are so many pictures that will always be found.
A swan, graceful in its flight,
Donald duck, his beak is such a sight.
Tigger, who can leap with a single try,
A girl, with her sled, down a mountain she will fly.
If I close my eyes, the clouds shift shapes,
There is so much I can see,
On a lazy, Monday afternoon,
My face is full of glee.