On a clear day when the sky is blue,
When not a single cloud comes into view,
When brilliant sun shines down on all
Is when you hear that simple call,
“Perfect day, isn’t it?”
For when a cloudy day’s twilight streaks
When orange-pink, purples paint those peaks
When clouds are adorned in celestial draped robes.
When the sun shoots rays through those fluffy globes,
Trumps even the most perfect of lifeless blue.