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Longer Narrative Poems
for Children

By Josie Whitehead

Open Field


By Josie Whitehead

Little White Cloud (A)

A little white cloud, born high in the sky,

Looked down at the earth as he started to fly.

     The world looked so big and yet he was so small.

     In his lifetime, he wondered, would he ever see all?


His mother cloud smiled as she looked at her son.

‘Yes, you’ll see such a lot and I know you’ll have fun,

      But today, gently rest, and I’ll stay by your side

      And tomorrow we’ll travel with the wind as our guide.’


The small, fluffy cloud soon went quietly to sleep

But in a couple of hours, at the world he did peep - - -

     But oh dear: ‘It has gone!’ cried the poor little cloud

      And what could he hear that was whistling quite loud?


‘The world’s turned around,’ his Mum told her son,

Whilst we can’t see the sun now, the moon’s having fun.’

       And there in the sky, smiling down from up high,

       Was the soft, gentle face of the moon in the sky.


‘But what is that whistling sound that I can hear?’

‘Oh that’s only the sound of the wind, my small dear.

      It whistles and sings as it travels through space,

      And you’ll feel it, my darling, but not see its face.’


The cloud also noticed the stars in the sky,

As they sparkled like diamonds as he passed them by.

     But down on the earth, some bright lights appeared

     And the light from the stars all too soon disappeared.


His mother explained: ‘That’s a city, you see.

It’s been made by mankind – unlike you and me.

    Humans build all the time and they eat up earth’s land

    With their cities and buildings so tall and so grand.


The earth turned again and they both saw the sun

And they saw lots of children who were having such fun.

     They played on their slides and also on swings –

      And what else could they see?  Oh creatures with wings.


Mother cloud told her baby: ‘Those creatures are birds.

Oh, my poor little cloud, you’ve to learn many words.’

     As the world moved again, he’d learned such a lot,

     But what happened next?  He felt terribly hot.


The dry place below him was a desert, you see,

Where nothing would grow - neither grass nor a tree.

     Little children were crying.  They’d nothing to drink –

     And could the clouds help them? Come on, have a think!


Mum cloud told her baby:  ‘I’ll send them some rain,

And then they’ll have water to drink once again.

     So she taught him to throw gentle raindrops below

     And with plenty of rain, streams started to flow.


Those streams became rivers which flowed to the sea.

Mother said: ‘There you are!  We’re important, you see.’

     Children ran for their buckets and thanked mother cloud,

     And her small son could see that his mother was proud.


Apart from the rain the small cloud learned of snow,

And his mother then told him: ‘That’s our work you know.

      That cold wintry wind helps to freeze the cold rain,

       But the sunshine can change it to water again.


From high in the sky that small cloud learnt a lot

As he travelled to countries - some cold and some hot.

    So look up, as you play, at those clouds overhead

    And remember their goodness.  Don’t grumble instead.  

Copyright on all my poems

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