I too was once little
I had a pet rabbit and a mother
Who thought little of my cooking skills

I had a boy friend
Whom people thought it was cute
That I wanted to kiss

I had a pink pencase
And inside I had a rainbow of pens
And I painted rainbows


But then I grew
And studied physics,
and practiced cooking,
and learned that boys do more than kiss

And I learned nothing,
all that strength building,
and I'm still one of the kids


Looking up to her cooking
Impressed by his hunting
A mind hopping from subject to subject

Admiring role models so cruel and
Wishing
That when I grow up
I'd be just like them

deep red blood dripping onto the floor
bright red roses swaying in the breeze

orange prison jumpsuits walking in the yard
orange carved pumpkins on the porch

yellowed skin as kidneys fail
yellow sunshine streams through the window

dark green mold spores entering your lungs
vibrant green grass freshening the air

darkening blue ocean water pulling you under
clear blue sky calling peace to the turmoil

purple poison dart frog toxins seeping into your skin
purple flowers in bloom decorating the garden

They say she descended after one summer storm
Like a pretty reverie arched right out of the blue
With eyes so expressive as if they whispered secrets
That men were entranced by that delightful hue

Some say she emerged from the sea late after dusk
A balance of dark and light that nature surely dyes
Designed and crafted by the hand of a divine being
Because the ocean depths were captured in her eyes

Others will tell you she rose from a field of flowers
As if the flora had tinted her windows to the soul
Bearing a delicate semblance of love and mystery
Like art captivating hearts so beautiful and bold

But…

It was I who witnessed her sliding down a rainbow
On a spectrum of imagination where fantasies go
In a stream somewhere between violet and blue
In a winged surreal dream of a girl named Indigo

Serendipity
True to through
Though, a rainbow travel far
The question of might, is openly should

A house of energy's
Quiet critique
Halt and habit, specific
Live sincerity's life well, we have each

Doors may close
And suspect a chaste
Is a courage to pose
The other side of promises, fast

The conquering of death, with dread
Ahead is a boding continue
Of what we know, is a living lead
To the sigh of consummation, with liberty due...

We see the creation, the commotion
Owed a love, by the reality of sakes
Made to keep a rolling serve of devotion
To the mercy of us, all of a lover's might, with which we make...

Talking tea
With a summoned friend
More than a shadow of due, we...
Know the skirting of justice, to end

Tea with a risen moment
To verify the calm, of seem in a worldly cast
Of duty before youth, a travail to know and lament?
The tally of sore senses, ready to accept here for ask

Somber news, inevitably the voice of regiment
And reason, are you all in life, a rational yet
Come by beauty, of sincerity and just terror to relent
A having dance of minds loved by the appetite we whet

See the misery we appoint, to another
Cause and effect, with a bidding lip of real
Enough totals of shared more, the need of an open bother
To come forward for the soul, if not a spirit of courtesy to feel

Into the void of common questions and answers
To the fate of hours we destined to hope
In the name of couth, and its most frightening tear
With the place and tale of nearness, with a choice beyond cope

Tear the chide of need from your face...
Sent with the love of us, might we sake a new rainbow
You drunk like a passion of demand and the order of says
The chastity of heed we all know could, an eye of heaven to owe

Little more
Then a callous effort...?
True to my spirit; a chance, a form
To notions care to find worth

Little back
Where almost sake also...
For a simple right, to the instinct we lack
A habit of merit in the kind, is a shared owe

Little mere
So found a new silence, to be the kind
Suppose and revealing a who to we're...
The pious beginnings of a stead to mind?

Little bite
To eat the days needs, without the pout of deeds
Taking a time away from us, let us see the might...?
That means the most, for must to begin a history that leads

Little mean
Saving grace from a strength's limit, toil in logic
Does a liberty know us for a savior's intuition to seem
The better of could, the nary of faring the rise of life be intrinsic?

Little blue
Waiting on the lucre, the dote of simplicity to favor yet
The sameness of prowess, to ask in suggestion a curious look
Is moments at own, an atone or a thought, of the loan we met?