Naughty Clouds

An old lady still behaving like a teen aged virgin, Hard and rough still sometimes like a silky skin, On the windows like a transparent blue screen, But who is behind you for such a sexy preen, An artist who paints the porn of the sexy earth? Or a treasurer who saves love as a golden wealth, Or a singer who sings the glory of his virtual image, Is he an adventurist, an artist or a mighty old sage? A rose whose color and fragrance you cannot paint, I know behind you and inside you is a too old saint, Nobody knows when and how many times he painted, Is his work of art still incomplete and is still awaited? I am a bird and you have kept me in a grilled cage, In my image I see you and your naughtiness o sage! I can watch the shapes that the clouds acquire, Who says love is a sin if so why the clouds admire? What a hidden camera! What we do it captures, But nature is a little shy the last scene it ignores, I kiss my beloved and see my image on the sky, I hug my beloved and see my courage on the sky, But as soon as I start her lovely undressing, It starts raining and all the shapes start melting.