Short Polychromatic Poems

Bloom in early morn,

                                       polychrome bells twist  on vine.

                                         Bright sun brings your show....

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'Tis so, I adore a polychromatic Muse.
She's a plethora of jolly dramatic hues.
Not to bore yuh surely with rant sophomoric,
But her aura is purely phantasmagoric.

I hear people ask, “Am I her signif other?"
But fear she might see me as only a brother.
It is quite fantabulous and those sorts of things;
So we, the two of us, will be looking at rings....

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Unimaginable beauty:
I found myself walking alone
far removed from humanity
in a large meadow overgrown
with kaleidoscopic poppies:
oranges, blues, crimsons and yellows
each indiscriminately
commingled in this meadow
like an incongruous painting;
yet, in my eyes, a masterpiece:
A polychromatic blending
of hues quivering in the breeze
as I stood amidst the allure
of their stupefying grandeur....

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Skin transformed to silver beneath the sweep of leaves, 
Peach and nitrate in the moon glow and the shaven silhouette; 
Filtered through the branches, latticed on her breast, 
Polychromatic prisms corralled in pin-prick beads of sweat. 

Summer heat and darkness enticed us ever closer, 
Bathed in pallid moonbeams and stardust memories; 
Laying down together, we as one upon the soil, 
And the heavens smiled upon us as we dreamed beneath the trees......

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Everyone sees color differently

some color-blind

yet they know the texture and 
warmth of shades, bland
grays more a product of heart
and not one’s eyes – 

not all black and white, coldly set,

appealing only a stark contrast

some light embracing its 
fine-line shadows
as midnights with stars and
moon in warmth of touch – 

meet me in the polychromatic
moment, where all spectrum
shards of color im-prismed
are released, forever to unveil a
harmony unbreached…....

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