Hearts are not constant,
In the light they radiate beauty,
In shade they lose focus,
In the night they are lost.

But Hearts are not black or red,
They span a spectrum,
Each unique,
But not so different from each other.

Hearts are pastels,
When touched they merge,
Bridging the gap between each other,
And becoming one.

Although they cannot always fuse completely,
There will always be enough different colours,
For hearts to find companionship,
And trust, if not love.

On a bright and delightful Easter morning
A furry white rabbit, wiggled her pink adorable nose
Peeking through lush bushes
In a lovely and distinctive pose

And jiggled her cottony soft scut
Aiming into a vegetation
On this sunny day
With so much motivation

Quietly hopping into a blissful garden
Placing decorative filled eggs in pastels
With little time to rest
As she quickly inhales

Adding vibrant colours, to an emerald spiky blanket
And into a rainbow of unfolding tulips
Enlightening her way, like a dazzling carnival
For little peeps enjoyment, upon soft winds movement

Beginning in the latter daylight hours, as tots of all ages
Eagerly carried empty interwoven baskets, on their quest
Pacing through, as in peekaboo
And observing who competes the best