All The Colours Of The Sunrise Poem by Mark Heathcote

Some say her complexions marble white
others that her skin is jet-black
some say it's red, no wait, it's yellow.
Some say her skin is earthly heavenly brown
like the browning petals on peace lily
that she was made in heaven for heaven
plucked like a bloom from the ground.

Some say her eyes are sky blue.
Others that they're of an emerald green
others that they're brown—a buried treasure
or even a gleaming tearful jade-black.
But she/I am not ever looking back.
There are no colours-define our love
our love is colour-blind;
plucked like a bloom from the mud.