Sometimes I can be zany-zony orange
Crazy as a loon, Light as Splenda
Popping here and there,
Floating in the air
Oh, so debonair
Bright orange hair.
I leap off the ceiling
Tell stupid jokes.
Slide up the walls,
Turn inside-outside somersaults,
You never know what I’ll say,
Where I’ll go, What I’ll do
When I am feeling orange.
Most of the time I am green.
The deep, rich foresty green
Of elves and oaks and moss-beds,
The solemn, sapient, throbbing green
Of fairy-kissed fiddleheads.
I withdraw like a dryad into his trunk,
Reclusive writer I become,
Creating, thinking, lost in my soliloquy,
The lamplight shining on my Muse and me
In our clandestine fernery,
As we discuss the finer points
of phantasmagoric reverie.
We jot down thought and wonder both,
And tap down fantasy all our own,
With the living green flowing free
From Mind to Hands to Paper.
I think of Hyperbole
And maybe even Haiku.
And when my Muse retires,
I curl up in midst my down,
and watch the peril, danger, strife,
victory, sorrow, joy, and life
Of others when I’m green.
Sophia White's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Color Me! by Sophia White )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- The Fraud Scholar & The Ragged Ph.D. Gui.., Bijay Kant Dubey
- Shadow & Raven Haiku, Chenou Liu
- I Will Bake a Cake, Chris Zachariou
- Frosted Torrents, Mishka Allport
- Opinion Vs Opinion, Kyle Schlicher
- Sunlight Crawling, Kyle Schlicher
- Experiment with Flute!, Geetha Jayakumar
- A Ponzi Poem, Kyle Schlicher
- There Are No Noncombatants, Lawrence Beck
- THE HOSTAGE, Satish Verma