A Poets Pallet
Some would call this A LOVE POEM others Wouldn't. Your Choice.
A Poets Pallet I have found,
It's not Paint or on Paper, but all around,
It's the Sun in the Winters Sky,
A Burnt Orange haze from where I lie,
A Flowering Gorse Bush on the edge of a Moor,
A Bursting Bud on a Flower that I saw,
An Elder Tree adds a Smokey Purple Haze,
The Sky above us or a Hidden Maze,
It all Brings new meaning to this World that I love,
In the Written Words of Poetry or Prayers from God Above,
They make you Discover the World in front of you,
Helping to Bring this World of ours through,
Through the Rains of Terror as in all of its Wars,
A Kaleidoscope of Color with Reds and Purple Gores,
A Wounded Heart from Lovers now Lost,
Or the Price of Eggs in a Supermarket they cost,
A Child's first Suicidal attack,
Or a Rhyme so fine it feels quite slack,
A Frustrated Mother lost and alone,
Or even the Places we all call our Homes.
It's not Paint or on Paper, but all around,
It's the Sun in the Winters Sky,
A Burnt Orange haze from where I lie,
A Flowering Gorse Bush on the edge of a Moor,
A Bursting Bud on a Flower that I saw,
An Elder Tree adds a Smokey Purple Haze,
The Sky above us or a Hidden Maze,
It all Brings new meaning to this World that I love,
In the Written Words of Poetry or Prayers from God Above,
They make you Discover the World in front of you,
Helping to Bring this World of ours through,
Through the Rains of Terror as in all of its Wars,
A Kaleidoscope of Color with Reds and Purple Gores,
A Wounded Heart from Lovers now Lost,
Or the Price of Eggs in a Supermarket they cost,
A Child's first Suicidal attack,
Or a Rhyme so fine it feels quite slack,
A Frustrated Mother lost and alone,
Or even the Places we all call our Homes.
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