Member Poem

Clouds they weep,
or shine for us,
keepers  of our secret world,
these stunning clouds,
they drift as magic carpets,
over midnight silver moons,
they buttonhole that keyboard smiley,
with its quirky strand,
salt and pepper fare,
of avid texter.
A simple message underpins,
their life on Mars essence.
“You,  the owner of this LED gadget,
can sign on and off,
whatever time you wish,
with whatever gif and clip,
that  limps  ashore,
for that faceless contact,
faraway you always,
seem so close to.“
And then across  the flickering screen,
appeared a non-fictitious cloud!