Colors Have Feelings Too

Enchanted Glow

There once lived a princess by the name of Whyla. She had hair of golden silk that seemed to glow in the sunlight, eyes as green as the Lake of Young Men and Maidens, and dark, full lips. Men far and wide fell over themselves trying to win her hand, but she favored none. Men of royalty, and men of lowly birth alike were enchanted by her beauty. Strong men, handsome men, rich men, poor men- none were what she was looking for. Princess Whyla didn’t care about looks or titles or reputations; she just wanted someone that would challenge her mind, make her dream, and make her feel like she was just a girl. Just a girl, someone to be loved, not a princess at all.

Finally, after rejecting hundreds of suitors, she spotted a man smelling the flowers in the garden. He was taking notes in a little leather bound book that had to be decades old, because it was yellowing in the pages and fraying at the edges. She stared at him while he studied the plant life until the sun was long gone and the stars came out. When she could no longer see him, she ventured out into the garden. She searched and searched, but couldn’t find him. It was dark, she was alone, and she began weeping. Just when she thought all hope was lost, the young scientist approached her with a glowing yellow flower. He didn’t say a word, but promised a lifetime of happiness and love in his eyes. She took the flower, and they spent the rest of the night wandering the garden together. Whyla, the powerful princess who sent men away and wouldn’t settle for less, became just another vulnerable girl risking her heart on a stranger. She liked it better this way. 

 

BISQUE

Breathing can be difficult

In times of great peril.

Sleeping children are awakened, and their little hearts

Quicken as the sirens sound off.

Under the open sky, the bombs are

Ejected and the people hide in their shelters. They pray for their savior, but he comes too late, long past their last breaths.

Frosted Pine

The pines grow weary.

Needles fall, turning pale orange.

Please winter, don’t come.

 

Stormy Night

Daddy came home late,

With a fire in his eyes.

Running far away.

Walking through the Banana Peel Market,

We spotted an Indonesian Pirate,

Wearing a wild Begonia in his breast pocket,

Selling elegant Thai silk and tied yellow ribbon.

He looked sad, despite his joyful tulip smile.

I traded my healing Arnica

For his useless, whimsical Fairy Lily.