the scullers of the sky
are driving clouds
towards the rainbow gate
first across the light
will lead the dance of stormy weather
when the last arrives
with long thunder cries
such a crash such a roar
such a flash of blinding light
when the scullers of the sky
row their cloud-boats home
© Frank Prem, 2009
Frank Prem Poetry 
Brilliant
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Thank you.
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I love this – have spent an inordinate amount of time lately considering how to describe the magnificence of clouds and there you go capturing it.
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Permanently capturing an ethereal and transient thing is a marvelous aspiration. It doesn’t tire.
Glad you enjoyed the piece, VJ.
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