Salty skin,
bare, burnt, buttery
and brutally BBQ'ed.

Amused by laying under
the rose-white parcel
decorated by green, blue and yellow.

Silver stars
beneath the blue lagoon
swallowing long limbs.

Appealing dry lips
consuming drops of shine,
kissed by the breeze.

Bathing beauty,
shy, sunny
and summoning sandy stares.

Sunflowers, canaries, bumblebees,
jaundice, sour lemons, warning signs.
A colour is a colour, until its not,
so she hid herself in yellow.

Is it but a coincidence,
that she shows herself to be sunshine?
To distract from the storm inside,
she paints her outsides bright as day.

The yellow girl twirls in her room,
perfecting her flawless routine -
her performance as a sun ray -
ready again for the next day.

But when that yellow mask comes off,
prepare yourself for a downpour;
because no one ever taught a hurricane
not to rip others apart,
as they tear themselves to shreds too.

Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow,
like the sun, like the scorching flame.
If only I'd seen the warning,
I would not give myself the blame.

Sunflowers are nice for me
because I love bright yellow things

       But.

The center of a sunflower is always dark.
The deeper you go
the darkness will grow

And when you'll reach the dead center


             oh you will know.

live life in warm yellows
when the sky is a dark gray and the clouds are a loveless black
live life in light pinks
when the trees are dying browns and the flowers are wilting ebonys
live life in bright blues
when the waters are a wild taupe and the sand is a rough onyx
live life in the colors of life;
for life is exquisite
but to see such radiance and beauty,
one must be appreciative and live life in warm yellows
reds,
oranges,
greens,
blues,
indigos,
and violets.
life is full of color, but one must be able see that to truly enjoy living

In our village lived young Mr.Kamau,
He had only one strong, funny cow,
The cow loved honey,
Honey made its nose runny,
The milk it gave was thick and yellow.

Golden-yellow, silky smooth skin
the color of honey begs me for a taste.
I mustn’t forget, the last time I came to
her seeking sweetness,
I was stung.

The air is perfumed with fresh rosemary's
And the wild springs with lush berries
Their presence colours the nursery with a sweet loom
It bleeds into the forecast for tomorrow's gloom
Nostalgia hits hard, heartbreaking and eerie
For a day when I wasn't paranoid and weary
Well, I'll be down by the Brighton pier
Watching birds float past in lonely fear
I'd love to turn away

The pristine sun shines like Hades
The outside scent is yellow, maybe
Little daises laugh in the foreground
Gardens sow a loving sound
Once I could see hope in the trees
And the love that whispered on the breeze
Now the trees foreshadow longing
And the gale howls with wronging
I'd love to turn away

The intimacy in my yellow tinted flowers seems to have faded
And the soft orchards have been invaded
My words burnt in a smouldering pile of dust
And steaming with the heat of my lust
I told a crowd I had something to say
But the people turned away
away
away...