May Morning

May Morning A strange morning, clouds look like they were trying to put up wallpaper, but the work was too much, and they left the project. Drips like glue fell into the sea and became flakes of sunlight. An aeroplane crossed the sky. It looked old, and it wheels were not retracted perhaps it was a private plane doing a bit of exercise keeping its owner alert. A seagull flew past it was a big one hardly flapping its wing, how I envy its flight. So, why are you not happy? I have seen so many oceans they are all the same…wet. The oceans have many colours, grey, blue and grey, and I never saw a red sea. The building is waking up, lifts in motion, slamming of doors. Yet, I miss the woodland, the small terns where fish and fairies play; I shall not be there and ask if they miss me?