THE COLOR OF WORDS

Shall I paint a picture
With my words
And if I do what colors
Will be seen as well as heard
To capture all the beauty
In her soul
Remove the dingy layers of life
And stories she was told

What words are true of life
In retrospect
To paint a fractured portrait
Of the world we now neglect
Is blue the perfect color to express
The countenance of sky inside
The life that suits her best

Of heartache in three hundred
Shades or more
And memories like sands
Upon some ancient crystal shore
Where dreams of white
Are scattered to the wind
And love’s advances fade away
As soon as they begin

Emotions crash with hues
In crested waves
And all that’s left of black
Are books of inkblots
That she saves
Her naked flesh so bronzed
Above the ground
The lovers in her past
Who walked away
Without a sound

Where pain as shadows
Haunt the in-between
Where lines remain
And promises are chains
That can’t be seen
Where every love you want
Is like a scene
A landscape for your heartbreak
On a canvas of your dreams

Shall I use words
As porcelain cups of paint
And if I do will they define
A sinner from a saint
Or devil in the details of a smile
The truth that hides
behind a veil like elements
Of style

These colors flow with
Every word we say
White clouds shimmer by
And slowly wither into gray
As black is always
Ever close at hand
Tainting all we love
To curse the ground
On which we stand

But let my words remain
As prism light
To drape around our cravings
As a shelter in the night
Let red convey a simple saving grace
And gold reflect the elegance
Of mystery in this place

Purple smudges
Kings and queens in love
Stains upon the hearts of fools
And snow white turtle doves
Lavender as peacock feathers fall
Pink pajamas on her bedpost
Flowers her a walls

Parsley green
The color of her eyes
The birds upon her yellow dress
Against the pale blue skies
Her auburn hair
as lovely leaves of grass
The color of her lips
And all the pain
That they contrast

TM DiSarro

©2021 TM DiSarro/MindScapes Publishing

From THE BUSHMAN

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