Beneath the azure canvas, whispers of dreams arise,
Floating on the breeze, soft as a lover’s sighs.
The clouds, in gentle ballet, drift and sway,
Painting fleeting wonders, then fading away.

In the morning’s tender light, they begin their dance,
A symphony of white, in a sky so vast, so immense.
Each form a fleeting thought, a moment’s grace,
A silent storyteller in the endless space.

As the sun climbs higher, shadows play and chase,
Transforming the heavens into a radiant embrace.
The clouds, now golden, whisper secrets untold,
A tapestry of light, a sight to behold.

When twilight descends, the sky’s hues blend and sigh,
The clouds become whispers in the deepening sky.
Stars emerge, dancing in the night’s serene hold,
And the dreams of the clouds, in silence unfold.