There is a glad warm red, with hope and might,
And near a glowing yellow, anti-night,
And blue, deep dark bright big ocean and sky,
Near green, young true and natural apple-eye,
With orange, autumn fire comforting,
And purple, caring honored fresh-robed king,
And white and black and gray, silvery-tied,
near brown, a deeper darker golden cry.
And everything between them and inside,
To one on canvas, seeking as they hide,
And as they merge the world blooms from their eyes,
So that it might stay and in itself rise.


Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s