Maman is orange and autumnal, she holds her child's hand
who is harlequin and dancing, like the minds of all small children
lit by the imagination of youth. Sadness is smooth at the end of a Sunday
which is grey as grace. Don't you see how pink Wednesday is?
Baby pink and delicate, soft and fine like baby's hair
Girl you are patriarch purple with vibrancy in your gaze.
Three is yellow and July is white, pearl and pure
like sea froth at the cove's mouth, and she breathes it all in.
(5th December 2013)
YOU ARE READING
Blue Moon
Poetry"Still she haunts me, phantomwise, Alice moving under skies Never seen by waking eyes." - Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There (2012 - 2014)
