The Colourless Cuckoo
Isolated, lonely, alone
Apart, aside colourlessly known
Yet a music, song for the world
Unseen, unheard, tales told
The dryness of scorching heat and the dogs days warmth
And the spirit, muse that it unknowingly, namelessly pourth,
Somewhere invisible yet succulent, surfeit, existence,
Detached yet poignant attachment- what honourable significance
Colourless yet colourful of multifarious steadfast tones-
Spreads the cheer, blithe, gaiety consoles the torn.
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