The biting air has stained,
Your porcelain cheeks an apple-red,
like autumn orchards,
blazing flames of crimson gold.
And all I yearn for,
is to kiss the cold away,
envelope you in warmth,
so as to watch,
Your autumn orchards once again become,
snowy December hills.
Colors
Speak to me in color,
Paint me a picture,
Without your violent mauves,
Your calming shades of blue.
Sketch me a masterpiece,
Fill your perfumed paper
with your pink metaphors,
and orange similes.
Construct me a rainbow,
Embellish your rose stationary,
with your heart dotted I’s,
and confetti dappled lipstick prints.
Pen me a gem,
bedeck me in riches,
with your smoky glances.
Brand me,
with your charcoal indifference.
The Perversity of Dreams
Perverse dreams,
petals metamorphose into ashes.
Plummeting to the soil,
Azure smoke rising to the heavens.
An opaque veil,
an impenetrable,
deep haze.
Animated by lanterns,
flaming rose buds,
minuscule orange suns,
Pulsating through the ashen wind.
A garnet colored,
Flaring jellyfish,
Beckons to her
From a sea of aurora light.
Flames drip,
From its silken petals.
She yearns,
Desiring to seize it.
Powerless,
As the petals weep flame,
Which kiss her fingers,
Cloaking them in molten gold.
Original website content (text, graphics, look & feel)
Authors, Photographers & Artists retain the copyright for their individual work(s) on this website.
Unauthorized reproduction without prior permission is a violation of copyright laws.
