It was more purple than green
An ugly gash refusing to heal
Salve nor balm, rest nor restrain
Strong enough to erase the pain
A bruise so blue, a crimson tear
Sweet hurt with trembling fear
Yet, I tend to these injuries deep
Purge the venom, not let it seep
Into crevices of my soul so grim
Discard memories like dead skin
Tell me why the daisies sing
Gentle petals, how they singe
With dark splatters of crimson
What makes them sway in glee
Touched by an aching breeze
Those that hummed in praise
Of wilderness and their beauty
Have crumbled to dust so ruddy
Sacrificed in raging wars of men
Only to capture a fleeting heaven
There is a sweetness
In the bronzed days
It is Nature’s scent
In honey-tinted tresses
Auburn sprinkle of cinnamon
Ginger, molasses of her skin
She treads on truant sunrays
With crunch of dry oak leaves
And golden whispers of seasons
Caresses me with faint touches
Of an orange autumnal breeze
I underwent
A metamorphosis
Shedding my skin
Forgoing myself
Now a shadow
Of what was once
So you could love
A mannequin
Of your dreams!
Undone mistakes,
Who ever heard
Such a misnomer!
There’s no turning back
From follies made
Flaws embraced
No entry erased
From the script of life
No joy in living so tame;
Heroism runs wild
Courting danger
Almost always in trouble
A spark, a glitter
In eyes that discover
The glamor in being
Incorrigibly mischevious!
Blue Pen Strokes 