Nestled in my palm, you grow swiftly warm.
For a while I focus on your composition.
And though I’ve asked of people who know these things,
No one can tell me what you are.
The most anyone has offered is conglomerate.
A word to roll around the tongue,
To speak aloud.
Red is the poppy at Flanders
Red is the coldness of roof tiles
Red is the cross on nurses
Red is the blood that pours from the wound
Red is hot cinders
Red is the temper of a child
Red is the frame of a bike
Orange is the colour of the burning sun
Orange is the radiance of a child’s smile
Orange is the sunflowers dancing in the fields
Orange is the morning juice of freshness
Orange is my love for my family
Orange is nature’s golden glow, stimulating the senses and evoking
vibrant creativity. Orange is the warmth I feel, drawing towards the
sunset of my life.
Reds and yellows tumble together, forming orange flames inside me,
there is still fuel yet to burn. The fire feeds on optimism and sunshine,
and vitamin c pills, orange of course!