Posted in Poetry


Color stirs my soul, collecting words the goal. Colors as emotional outbursts, rising up, evading the limelight, causes me anxiousness. I believe the stimulating words patiently wish to be released, to be birthed as seeds blowing in the wind.

These words I conjure deep in the heart of my being are definitely introverts. Why they swim around, refusing to be netted, boggles the mind. I guess they wait for the opportune moment to be caught. If I knew the magic blossoming time I might not waste so much effort harvesting blank thoughts. But then again, how else would I hook them?

Word colors
such as ink, crow
graphite and shadow
where your mind does go?
a familiar place

azure sky hovering over aegean seas
rowing off to indigo sand dollar beach
white alabaster sands as far as
the eye spotting banana trees
flamingo feathers dancing in ballet slippers, tiptoe

to the land of colors
raisin toast with plum preserves
a delectable picnic
under a dandelion sun
sipping mulberry wine watching magenta sunsets

brunette is certainly fun
but not as fun as blonde
so it has been told
definitely offensive

Orange, a favorite color
my son born, it choose me
honey he brought
bronze, tiger and ginger
marmalade, marigold and clay


Thanks again to for a wonderful post about cadmium, a painter’s pigment. Her posts often lead me down a lonely road, walking it I hash out my thoughts as raw as they may be. Ingrid Sundburg and her delightful color thesaurus, which can be found on Pinterest or a favorite search engine. As well as all the bloggers, sharing worlds.

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