Your Green Poem by Jerry Pike

Your Green

Your green is blue, my orange grey, I can’t accept
that all alone, means one alone, as colours crept,
exactly how the tints invade, I cannot see,
but seep they do, under the door of sanity.

I watch the madness, all around, its little quirks,
decipher life into a trail where nothing works,
and there within the pupils read, what’s there to take,
an empty room, a vacant lot, that vacuums stake.

I sat to write, but birds upturned the solder sky,
a melting core of fluent cries then stumbled by,
and locked beneath this lowing cloud, I smile a joy,
for what it’s worth, is gold and jewels inside a boy.

I wondered if the balance tipped while someone slept
and dragged emotion into light while glory wept,
but now I see the daybreak clear, provoked by sun,
encamped outside, under the rain, that’s just begun.