Has all I've done to make you love me more,
evaporated like the clouds do, evermore?

Has the pent up anger of time revealed itself clear,
with changing of clouds as they appear, disappear?

I will not stand with the angriest of all clouds,
the ones that call for war from angry crowds.

For they have a fuse that is way too damn short,
sure as clouds come and go with cannons' report.

I will remain as calm as a billowy cloud afternoon,
come with me, dear, relax in my cloud balloon.

For soon the sun will break through the roiling clouds,
just after the rain replenishes all with its applauds.

All will be bright and sunny once again, my dear,
for the clouds tell me everything you want to hear.