the cloud factory.

with the grass in my hair and my toes in the dirt and my eyes looking up i often wondered of something peculiar. but i guess that isn't so curious, for i am a peculiar girl living in my own peculiar world. but all the while, i would look up at the light blue vastness above me and wonder where the white spots came from. they would come and go, they would block out the sun. sometimes bring rain. but i loved them the same. rain meant puddles and wellie boots. the strange white spots became my closest friends, though i wished there could be more. i dreamt of a place where i could create these beautiful fluffs and keep them forever. i dreamt of a factory for clouds. for i am a dreamer of days and a dreamer of nights, and i dream and dream, all the while, wishing for more white clouds.