Red.

The rose, whose sharp teeth bite into the palm,

Seeing the thick tears brings a strange sense of calm.

Blue.

The azure sky, blemish-free of the slow puffs,

Rough waters violently crash against the tall bluffs.

Orange.

The setting sun behind the rigid, glorious mounds,

Speckled monarchs float around, refusing to make any sounds.

Green.

The four-leaf clover, patiently waiting on the ground below,

Juicy apples tumble down, one by one in a rapid flow.

Yellow.

The sunflowers giggle from the soft, tickling rays,

Fire interrupts the still night, what a beautiful blaze.

Purple.

The grapes hugging one another, sweet wine,

Smell the lavender fields, the aroma crawls up the spine.

Brown.

The dark chocolate is too good to resist,

Cinnamon in freshly brewed coffee is great, I insist!

Pink.

The color of her cheeks when he gives her a wink,

Plump lips, causing his brain to stop and not think.

Black.

The crow sending out its warning calls,

Smoke engulfs the thin, burning walls.

White.

The pale snow brings magic to the frigid land,

Purity cannot be captured by the stiff, numb hand.

 

Color is a gift to this dull, boring life;

Without it, is there still love, despair, strife?

Let color vanish, dissolving in our warm breath-

Impossible; nothing would exist, not even death.

Is color the cornerstone to our constant creativity?

Once our imagination dies, we shall wait and see.