She sits among the soft white clouds, a teapot in her hand
Feeling the warmth of the sunlight as it whispers on her skin
Clouds of soft illusion, against the morning sky
Drifting slowly with the breeze, so far up high

Angels in organza, blonde curls frame their face
Filling the afternoon with a time of fun and grace
Sipping out of china cups, a teaparty they make
A time of enchantment with tea and cake

Sand * * *

You are more than welcome to use the poem on this set,
but remember to use the matching logo to link back to
"The Softest Kind Of Poetry". ~THANK YOU~)