The Skies Are Gray

October 13, 2007
By Arianna Ghazanfar, Philadelphia, PA

Twas the flame, ardent, gleaming,
Sent a scarlet, left me dreaming,
Trapped in wonders, fancies, more,
All the mind could think, galore,
The waves, they grasped for stones,
From sanctuaries of ashore,
Tales and whispers, ghosts of lore.

I kept in mind the skies were gray,
Hoping for a brighter day,
The clouds, they leapt,
The wind, it sung,
But in my head,
A voice, it rung,
The skies are gray,
The skies are gray.

I shook,
I shivered,
The rain, it poured,
The sparrows slept,
The owls soared,
I tightened eyes,
The clouds, they roared,
The skies are gray,
The skies are gray.

The fire whipped,
It blazed a sign,
I longed,
I longed,
For Sun to shine,
And grapes to grow,
On silky vines,
Although it shadowed,
Fatal rhymes,
The skies are gray,
The skies are gray.

The wind, it howled,
A rasp, a whisper,
The cat, it flinched a dozen whiskers,
I closed my eyes,
I opened my mind,
I drew the drapes,
My smile signed:
The sun, it shined,
The sun, it shined.

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