Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2015
.
Red was the colour of her hair,
The colour of blood in a bed,
The pastels of lovers burnished
By an indifferent, waning sun.
The mark of my own undoing,
The fey burning in my veins.

Blue is the colour of mirage,
The marriage of the naked oceans
And of the non cloths of the skies,
Blue is the blast of bold dream,
Of the future and of the past
The innocence in her eyes.

White was the colour of her
Soul, her skin, the brash divinity
Within, without, removed, set
And vibrating like swirls, flash,
Particles, parsed, dark matters
In superpositions of quantum flux.
Seán Mac Falls
Written by
Seán Mac Falls  Éire
(Éire)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems