When the last waltz has stopped
long before the lights have dimmed
no cash, down-payment or card
can reclaim its extraordinary magic.
And yet the cry goes out; dance, dance again,
until the clouds take to the hills
hoping there to find deaf ears
and rest happily in ignorance.
Peace reigns for a time and half a time
but then a thought begins to grow
in the, oh, so white and fluffy
to turn them dark and sombre.
How long it takes for clouds to think
remains for me a mystery
but finally thought turns into action
and they return again.
No one can hear their silent creep
because noise would make of their eavesdrop
a complete and utter waste of time
for those with work to do.
And then they listen; yes, they hear
the same old cry as once before
and that’s the reason why we have
quick and sudden cloudbursts.
Clouds, you see, must blanket cries
with all at their disposal
to not make of their return
an unwise decision.
And how like humans to take to the hills
and bury their heads in the clouds!