Gentle whispers in the sky so high,
Clouds drift slowly, passing by.
Shades of white and grey they form,
A tranquil dance before the storm.

In the morning light, they gleam,
Like dreams woven in a seam.
Soft and fluffy, they float with grace,
Painting pictures in a vast space.

As the sun begins to set,
Colors merge, and skies are met.
Pastels of pink and hues of gold,
Stories of the day unfold.

Night embraces, the clouds fade,
Stars peek through, a grand parade.
A celestial quilt, stitched with care,
Clouds disperse, leaving the sky bare.