O is for Orange
Last school year (we home-school), Sunday evenings were reserved for family poetry night. Some were in Couplets, some Sensory, some Haiku. Others were Inner-Self and some were Color.
For this post, I've decided that it is Sunday night and the boys have assigned a Color Poem to me.
a pile of colored blooms
the mandarin eyes peel
a blood-orange moon
pouring out of meal
salmon squirm
their bittersweet term
leaves burning fall
hungry night's sky
rotting pumpkin face
soup and stew and die
Orange
a pile of colored blooms
the mandarin eyes peel
a blood-orange moon
pouring out of meal
salmon squirm
their bittersweet term
leaves burning fall
hungry night's sky
rotting pumpkin face
soup and stew and die
"Poetry teaches the enormous force of a few words, and, in proportion to the inspiration, checks loquacity."
-Emerson
