Joy is bright blue, a kind of turquoise.
She smellt like a million lily bouquets.
Tasted of frosted cinnamon rolls.
To be with her was the A string on a fine violin.
She feels like a warm knit scarf around my neck.
-
Laurence
Problems are olive green.
They look out of your hazel eyes
And at your gray coloured shirt,
Puzzled.
Problems try to perplex you, but you don't care.
You just take out your diamond earrings, late at night.
-
Melissa is green— a lush, verdant green.
A beautiful woody smell.
And tastes like cinnamon apple pie with cream on top.
Her laboured breathing after a run on top—
And the sun wrapps its arms around me.
July 17,2017 - evolution of poetry - 2004-2009-2017
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem