“Ooh look at the pretty sky!” I say
All streaked with reds, oranges, and pinks.
I stare out the window in awe
It must be magic I think.
“You love your pretty sky,” he says pulling the car over.
“What are we doing, where are we going?”
“Well getting a picture with your pretty sky of course”
We run through the field to find a perfect spot
It has now deepen to a violet blue, with strokes of bubblegum pink, and clouds so thin and light
It turns out perfect, we like it a lot.
Our cheeks are rosy from the brisk winter’s wind
But our smiles are big, and arms outstretched like a welcome
Saying “here we are, let the adventure begin.”
Oh to the pretty sky, I hope others notice you
So mysterious, and full of wonder,
And so, so beautiful too.
I hope they notice the constant art you display
And as we continue with our habits,
My only hope is that you are here to stay.