They gather around; timidly peeking
For a glimpse of her crown
Is it resting high and round?
Or disheveled, leaning down?
What is her mood this evening?
Quiet and collected?
Or is she restless…. agitated…seething?
The Queen is discernible
But the clouds are in varying hues of grey
Is the Queen feeling vulnerable?
Prepping for a watery display?
Of ash colored clouds and torrential rains
Thunder clapping so loud, children hides in disdain
We truly don’t know, but just in case she puts on a show
Our umbrellas are handy….since she’s the consummate dandy
Swaying either way, dainty and pretty
Then gruff and gritty the following day
The Queen is complex, cunning and shrewd
Wears her heart on her sleeve
She’s emotionally nude
So it’s best not to be rude
She induces clouds that smother the sun out of the skies
Such a passionate lover, puppeteering the rain as her cries
Down pouring for days on end, just to stop and start the cycle all over again
Our harvests will suffer because of the folly of men
Who chose not to love her or shunned her affections
The Queen of Clouds doesn’t respond well to rejections
She’ll take away the sun and cloak the skies in greys
Like the beating of a drum, her thunder echoes down like caves
She frowns upon being betrayed or being a pawn in a charade
Just leave her alone, so we can see better days