Pat Adams Poet Quatrain

Fly Your Colors

Our fighting heroes on parade
Fly flags which they call their colors
Colors for which their comrades fell
Distinguishing them from others

So when an old man saw a girl
Crying with her heart asunder
She confided, her beau went astray
"What can I do?", she would wonder

The old man said, "I know it hurts"
But to him, it's all black and white
You are more kind and passionate 
Your colors can light up the night

Never give up your colors child
Never veer, but go your own way
You will meet "the one" who loves you
You'll feel when it happens one day

She asked, "So what are your colors?"
"How have you become wise this way?"
He said, "Honey, I just got old"
My colors are silver and grey

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Gershon Wolf July 18, 2019 at 6:16 PM Silver and grey sure beats white as frostbite!! ~ Old Silver-tooth, gw Pat Adams July 19, 2019 at 4:34 PM Yes sir, you hit that nail on the head!.........pat

Lindsay Laurie July 10, 2019 at 8:37 PM Crikey Pat … this is a wonderful poem. Nothing comes within a bull's roar of life's experience - thanks Pat - Lindsay Pat Adams July 11, 2019 at 9:09 AM Very true my friend. No matter how much you are told about something, the experience is always what brings it to light. Have a great day!...............Pat

Ilene Bauer July 4, 2019 at 4:01 PM very touching, pat! Pat Adams July 7, 2019 at 10:11 AM Thanks for commenting Ilene!........pat

Jan Allison July 3, 2019 at 4:20 PM by the end of the poem I got a huge lump in my throat Pat, I am far more used to your humourous writes and love the change in direction:-) hugs Jan xx Pat Adams July 7, 2019 at 10:10 AM Thanks Jan!