Powder blue
The day opens
Like a carnival gate barker
Calling and drawing me in
To the colors
The moving parts
The melody of leaves
Falling from branches
Lemon ice yellow sun
sweetly chilled breezing by
And high
Gourmet morning to fill my belly
A skipping stroll about the grounds
A song to keep me grounded
I will dress in pretty pastel liquid green
As if dripping from an artist's pallet
And spread the strokes of my smile wide
To paint my canvas
Fit for framing
Later hang to admire
SUN DAY
Powder blue that day opens, beautifully penned the poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your SUN DAY is not a day of rest unless you consider so much excitement, movement, interaction restful. No, your special day is a day that is active, super-active. You put yourself in carnival atmosphere but it's really a stage for YOU, a performance the poem records. I think the spirit of this day you call yours is displayed by the way the poem doesn't have an ending - no destination is reached, the carnival doesn't shut down, no one shows up and cries, Susan, it's over now! Come home.The poem just stops, but the spirit it celebrates is on-going..Because that spirit is in you.