In skies of gray, the clouds convene,
A misty, moody, tranquil scene.
They gather high, both near and far,
To tell a tale of who we are.

Clouds like cotton, soft and white,
Or dark and heavy, filled with might.
They drift with purpose, or stand so still,
A canvas for dreams, a tranquil chill.

In their dance, a story unfolds,
Of secrets kept and tales untold.
The world beneath, in muted grace,
Lies wrapped in clouds' cool embrace.

A gentle hush, a soothing balm,
When clouds descend in whispered psalm.
A respite from the sun's fierce blaze,
Cloudy weather, in soft, cool ways.

They weep with rain, or snow they bear,
A tender touch upon the air.
In cloudy weather, we find release,
A peaceful pause, a moment of peace.

So let the clouds adorn the sky,
As nature's art, they mystify.
In cloudy weather, we find our reprieve,
A moment to reflect, to breathe, to believe.