Calling Clouds (A Nature Memory)

I rolled onto my back of bones,
Emaciated belly empty and aching;
Sick with only Fates knew what,
My feverish body constantly shaking.

I lengthily gazed at the heavens,
Fixated on the overhead clouds;
Tried to drown out the endless noise
Of the ever passing and ignorant crowds.

Each one was its own unique shape,
I saw as I began to feel the breeze;
Each fluffy image a necessary distraction,
and a precious moment of peace.

Look! There was the face of a sizable frog,
and over there a beautiful sailing boat;
A fluffy castle I could scarcely dream of --
The center of an imaginary story I wrote...

Of the billowy sword that belonged to a Knight,
who would reasonlessly notice me;
Staring there broken up at the sky,
He would take my hand and be my reprieve.

We would fly away from that moment,
No more to sob, suffer or beg;
He would hide me in our sanctuary,
And there I would forever be safe.

Yes, calling clouds was often my solace,
In the neverending dark, my dimly glowing light;
Those moments where I found comfort and hope,
And, for awhile, laid death to my plight.