Mr Blue Sky

Mr. Blue Sky arrived in a north wind on a balmy day. I could tell by his attitude that he wanted to play. We frolicked and laughed beside Luna Beach Bay. I did not think Mr. Blue Sky would ever go away. But one day he was gone in a storm with thunder. I figured he’d gone back to his homies who lived down under. His accent had been fine, British with a bit of a funny twist. To the rain and lightning I shook my head and my angry fist. He’ll probably come back, my friends said, with a giggle. I wrote him many letters with hearts, stars and a squiggle. He never replied, Mr. Blue Sky was gone in every kind of way. I always wonder about the bright balmy sky that got away.