“Almost every Monday I wake up with a dread of a new week, but then, I look up, at the skies, and I feel, just fine” Gun Roswell

Cloudy, with a chance of Sunshine?

Clouds across the sky, caused me to drop my smile
Only seen now, are shades of grey, to my total dismay
But, then a bright white vision in there, like a spot of joy emerged
Sunshine? Could it be? Yes, pretty in that white blur I must say!
I am singing now, getting rid of that frown, as I am on the cloud
Number nine, me thinks they say, and hey;
For me, nothing but blue skies do I see, from now on, at least!