Painting In Poetical Beauty Poem by Noorie Ali

Me, I’m now in blatant colour
You will mock me I know, some day you will.
My art is stimulant shot like rainbows in the dark amour
Of nature, ambiance.
My poetical justice is re-writable magnetized I am to these words of glorious flowery thoughts I cannot but see past these natural gallery’s of luminous candles that glow.
My poetry is not a rhyme I know but what is rhyme without a meaning which flows in riddles that don’t match to the flow?
I’m an artistic picture with colours on show, the black pink white orange blue.
Scattering words that be written true.
My one weep falls on that sheet of paint how it then smudges with a green paste.
I hallow these photos in my mind trying to create a soulful time.
How this nature is ending behind the lines. Paged, in a toxic habitation.
Not much for the horrific site. I pledge gallons of abundance to them one day they will
Be vibrant and gold in match with the nightingales in heaven
I speak this language because I’m wild myself troubled frozen, to the core.
They say I’m confused. Only am I confused for I care, its not only nature I pray for.
I pray for humanity the race that’s down. Blood shots, polluted routs. Staged women and direct abuse.
Help us all become one.