PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

If you told me the color

of yes-

lips pressed to flesh,

red like sunflowers are yellow.

Now I see

we face the sun.



~



How many times did we

lie,

worshipping the sky,

tangled in tall grasses

wishing

(can't we wish)

the rain would paint us dry.



You burst from cracks

of sidewalk cement.

A smudge of color

in a world of grey.



I grew in a garden

of straight-backed trees.

Blossomed among fallen leaves

and was plain.



This is the marraige

of great and golden,

to leaves, unfolding.

Yet we both find the heat

a privledge

to our petals.



Little seeds have grown,

black they adorn our hair

as sunripe jewels.

The color

that surrounds us

is rare.



Sunflower,

with you,

I am yellow.