Stone grey clouds hung from the sky,
the look of a vindictive angel.
Embraced me in pensive sulks!
Its edges torn, an ice cold pace;
of what I learn the bygone’s in disarray.
It swells and bursts into pit-a-pat notes:
Creating a magnificent poetry of its own,
Tickling the grass and caressing the earth,
Painting serenity over the graphite sky,
Enabling life to the widowed and wild blue yonder.
The chaotic drops danced around,
Sprinkling beauty to what it found,
A crystal clear mise-en-scène;
Which was once a note,now a song.
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