And When I Look Up

When I go outside on a sunny day,
And I look up,
I want to see that beautiful sky.
That deep, deep blue sky,
I love it so much....maybe more than anything.
I want to see it because it feels like...

like a warm bowl of oatmeal on a cold winter morning...

or like a cozy soft cuddly blanket--the kind that your mom keeps on the back of the couch for chilly, rainy nights.

When I go outside
On a sunny day
And I see that sky,
That deep, deep blue sky,
I know that no matter
what happens
that day,
When I look up it will be there.

And when I see that deep,
Deep blue sky,
And things do not go
Exactly right,
There will be something
that is good,
When I look up.

And if by chance that day,
Some dark, grey clouds
Come and smother the deep,
Deep, blue sky,
I will know the dark, grey clouds
Are really why I love my
Deep,
Deep,
Blue
Sky.

When I get home,
And the day has been long,
And the day has been hard,
I will curl up on my couch,
And reach for the cuddly,
Soft,
Blanket...

In the morning,
I will make a bowl of oatmeal,

And when I walk outside,
I want to see the sky...
Because I love it so much.

Copyright 2012

Author's Notes/Comments: 

About comforts.

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Beatles.love's picture

i really enjoyed the way this

i really enjoyed the way this is written. its different and makes me want to keep reading. i feel that this poem is very true and portrays the sky in an artistic, beautiful,and comforting manner

 

nightlight1220's picture

Thank you. This is one my

Thank you. This is one my favorites as well.


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "

 

TheShadowKnows's picture

yes... the sky is nice to

yes... the sky is nice to look at! :) the lines in this piece are broken up very intrigingly... not my particular writing style but its definatly different. i like the general subject a lot though

nightlight1220's picture

Yes, I totally agree. I love

Yes, I totally agree. I love the sky a lot more since moving. Phoenix has destroyed their sky.


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "