Taking the Mundane

At what time must sunshine become mine?
Or what rhyme could align one through nine?
If seven eight nine and nine eight seven,
Then I must pine just to go to heaven!

If clouds are loud and proud and boring,
Then rain keep pouring while I'm snoring.
While soaring over mountain peaks I reak
Of storing memories of green browed crowds.

So now I sit and stand and stand and sit,
But I can't stand sitting don't you understand?
Standing under sitting white and blue and green
I sit on green, and stand so blue it seems.

But visions of white linen fizzing over red planes
Visits bright futures to elevate the plain.
The mundane is sane when it may rain with pain,
But lets claim pain's fame with tame, with tame!