Miss Skye is in a quandry.
 Which of her moods to choose?
Part of her watches, and silently broods.
Another part’s offended;
She fears that she may cry.
Another part smirks as the sun stalks by.
Coquettish and flirtatious,
A paradox parade;
Her overcast eyes under brows create shade.
Allow her fleece pajamas
To blow away at whim?
Or cover up her inmost heart and blush a sunset hymn?
She’s torn. Â Unsure. Â Conflicted.
It puts her in a pout.
She’ll smile a while, and just for fun, she’ll storm some raindrops out!

What are your thoughts?