It’s the color of the sun The one with rays that beat down And warms your skin on a bright Summer day.
It’s the daisy garden, The one just outside your front door; It’s scent, so fresh and sweet Fills your nostrils with the smell of summer.
And the sweet, sharp wheat The ones that make you sneeze And yet you can’t help But drag your fingers lightly against their flesh And take in their musty scent.
Or the shutters of your neighbor’s cottage, The ones with the soft pastel that stands out among The white siding And the pale door
It’s the bow in your daughter’s hair, The one that she fought But you insisted, Because it’s beautiful The way she looks in that hue.
And it’s the color of your happiness, The one that shows through the bright smile That stretches across your face And bleeds golden joy.
I love the idea of describing color without specifically telling the color within the poem until the end. Refer to "Red" for the first installment of this series.