Riled up clouds go lumbering by,
Stirring up unsettled sky,
Wispy, misty moisture passes,
Light diffused upon its masses.
Sun’s last efforts streaming low,
Just before it lets us go,
Into darkness for some hours,
As the clouds spit out their showers.
Promises of warmer rays,
Shining down in coming days,
Though Sun sleeps behind the hill,
It will rise again, it will.
Morning rays revitalize,
More than we can realize,
But for now it says good night,
Telling all of us, “Sleep tight.”