With nothing to do and nowhere to go
I find myself sitting in a small clouds shadow
I look up to see a sky full of sheep
gamboling freely in the wind shepherds keep

Where have they come from and where do they go
what tales can they tell of mountains and snow
Of seas tossed wild and desserts parched and dry
those fluffy white clouds that litter the sky.

But as they all gather a dark wall they do form
with thunder and lightning that heralds the storm
The rain lashes down and the rivers run full
all the sheep in the fields smell of damp wool.

As the storm passes by and the sun eases out
I find a broad smile replacing the pout
With a sky now deep blue and the air so clear
I move on my way with nothing to fear.

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