Well, I don't want to (cloud)burst the bubble and rain on everyone's parade
<g>, but poetically it seems to me we're getting a fairly skewed sample of
soft and fluffy cloud appreciation here.  I'll ante up the following:

Bereft

Where had I heard this wind before
Change like this to a deeper roar?
What would it take my standing there for,
Holding open a restive door,
Looking downhill to a frothy shore?
Summer was past and day was past.
Somber clouds in the west were massed.
Out in the porch's sagging floor
Leaves got up in a coil and hissed,
Blindly struck at my knee and missed.
Something sinister in the tone
Told me my secret must be known:
Word I was in the house alone
Somehow must have gotten abroad,
Word I was in my life alone,
Word I had no one left but God.

--Robert Frost


>To watch a cloud
>dislocate
>and swirl in endless patterned flight
>
>Its motion plays
>a dandy dance
>of a wind’s will and one man’s mind
>
>To watch a cloud
>pass overhead
>and change its shape ‘til but a speck
>
>It makes one wonder
>were it not
>the cloud who does the willing
>
>Wind and man are
>merely strands
>for which a cloud comes bidding
>
>> -----Original Message-----
>> From: [log in to unmask]
>> [mailto:[log in to unmask]]On Behalf Of Ray Lanier
>> Sent: Monday, 17 July 2000 06:55
>> To: [log in to unmask]
>> Subject: Re: The aesthetics of soft fluffy clouds, was RE: Intrinsics
>>
>>
>> "The dew is gleaming on the grass
>> The morning hour is seven
>> And I am fain to watch ye pass
>> Ye soft white clouds of heaven"
>>
>>
>> From a feeble memory, source forgotten
>>
>> Ray
>>
>>
>>



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