A Poet Speaks In Colors

 

 

 

 

 

 

That when sense of matters float languidly in queue

 

Weary thoughts are sinking and rising at the water’s face

 

Then come circle about in a saving craft of blue

 

 

 

At the end of a climb where the summit place

 

And all of earth’s splendor lies below in emerald hues

 

Name the passing white brigantines crossing above in blue space

 

 

 

When the winter white snows cover the skin’s frozen bruise

 

And the long season stillness awaits the first breath of spring

 

To awaken the irrepressible yellow and blue crocus muse

 

 

 

Then celebrate the rebirth of life and sing

 

Wearing your deepest colors of green, blue and red

 

To dance with whirling wings as the wind chimes ring

 

 

 

Let be the final words said

 

‘Twas his last wish to dress in colors of blue

 

And speak of the poet not in tones of sad