every single

every single cloud i see

provokes a love inside of me,

rising chin to savour whole,

ardent praise on morning stroll:

“lofty rovers billow high!

enchanted lures roam free the sky!”

while pavements lack their airy lustre,

focused strides i'd ought to muster,

for clumsy be my constant bane,

i'm loathe to tumble down again.