Sails at Sunrise
Wouldn’t it be wild if the sails were snow white?
The sun overcomes the bright yellow sky.
Not flax, hemp or Dacron. Gone is the onyx night.
Deep red, not blood; proud colors flying high.
Pastel yellow slides through green and blue valley.
Dark rock; red rock - peacefully percolates in lake.
Lime greens, verdant forest, spinnerette cloud finale.
Uninhibited hues of sunrise - amorous soul shake.
Have we forgotten the little boat? in the center
of the framed world… sails are painted lips,
(world’s overflowing with a pigment tenor)
pale sepia, monumental orb with remarkable hips.
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