“His head’s up in the clouds,”
the small boy heard somebody say.
“You’d better get busy, or you’re sure gonna pay,
you’re here to pick this cotton, don’t stand around.”
It’s true, that he had taken a slight little pause,
but, he had just seen the most beautiful bird;
and then he had reflected on a sound he had heard,
as he gazed to the skies, you’d have thought him lost.
“What’s got into you?” he heard in faint southern drawl,
“Your head’s in the clouds…not good for a thing.”
“That’s not true,” he thought, “I could fly if I had wings,”
his mind was completely on the bird he saw.
“He’s as lazy as his sister,” Mom and Granny both surmised,
“All they want to do is stand around and dream.”
But the power both possessed, to reason and to think,
Made them both quite successful through their lives.
“Never be much to which he will amount,”
was the reasoning assigned the small boy’s dreams;
but, these days he sits and writes of most beautiful things,
and he saves it all, and posts it “in the clouds.”
-Donald R. Sansbury, 2013