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A Color Palette for Musings and Ruminations


Smeared across the milky canvas

Of a mollified horizon, mild

Pinkish, soft femininity

Sweetened by a quiet cacophony

Of sunset birds gliding smoothly

Across their aerial glade, refreshed

Tenements of condensation and

Misty preludes, as you

Once again restart your love.


The luscious consistency

Of strawberry milk,The mild, soothing

Pink powder you rub on your chest,

a smattering

Of shy freckles

and her lightly glazed

Rosebud mouth

Delicate and thin as a

Porcelain doll’s,

Sweetheart necklines

And cotton candy spools,

Glittery cards and

heart-shaped jewels

The soft hue of piquant peach-laden skies,

and the sunset’s whispered

Cherished lullaby,

Bouncy gelatin

Smooth and flat

And cream-rimmed,

Holiday ham sliced

And coated with

Pineapple sauce,

the pink flesh perfectly

Cooked and glistening to boast,

The tongue of a playful child,

peeking and bold

And the tenderness

Of lovebirds

Caged but never



It’s the sun,

bright and blithe

Like a cracked egg,

the yellow yolk leaking

Across the horizon,

as the larkspur starts to

rustle below,

It’s the dim streetlight bathing

pitch-black alleyways,

eerie and ominous

A delicate mango peel

Swirling and sweet,

A thousand sunsets

In beautiful retreat

Lesions turned sallow, sunken

Lethargic libation, of

Amber leaves, sullen

The golden bands


In matrimonial bliss

And a vibrant

Sundress fluttering

Vivacious, and


Stretching for miles,

golden fields

of oats and grain

Yellow parchment,


Pineapple stains

Barn animals chewing

Nibbling, on towering

Stacks of hay,

If a needle is lost,

philosophers engross,

then lost it’s

bound to stay,

Parakeet feathers,

Barrels of apple

Cider, the golden


Crust of warm,

home-made pie

And the dancing


In the vase,

not the least bit shy

Lucky gold

Coins flipping;

a tail or a head,

and a yellow umbrella

twirling in the drizzle,

As a laughing couple

hurriedly fled.


The green lagoon

Glassy and clear

Twining fishes hiding behind

Electric anemone and

Smooth-ridged corals,

The seaweed swaying

Back and forth and

Back and forth,

A parrot mimicking your

Careless drawls and

Deliberate name-calling

The jealousy pushed down,

disgusting aftertaste of bile,

The greens left on the

Side of the plate,

Neglected snails in the garden

Leaving a trail of slime,

The moss on the boulders

and the rocks,

walls with tangled vines climbing,

the kelp In the pool,

lily pads floating

ever so slowly,

The rosary you kept

Beads illuminated

In the dark, like

Neon shoelaces glowing

And the tea leaves

You’re so fond of

The herbal ointments

And slippery oils

The valleys and

Rain forests humming

With life,

Grasshoppers and crickets chirping

Their quiet

Orchestra of



It’s the peace of mind

I steal, from the sea

and the sky,

when i’m floating off

To unconsciousness

like a peace of driftwood,

lazy and cool and tranquil

It’s the cluster of blueberries

in my wicker basket,

ripe and full to bursting

The shade of freezing lips,

glacial and abused

Sapphires harvested from

Subterranean mines

The songs you sing

To the lightest breeze

When you stare

Out the window,

soft and soaked

with melancholy

and quiet contemplation

It’s the snowflake that

Kissed your blushing nose,

the trickle of the babbling brook

The bead of a tear

That went overlooked

And the frequency

Of California Grays

With their

Undecoded melody.



A long elegant braid

Hanging limp

Behind your back

La Luna’s sophisticated

Evening gown

Flowing, rippling

Studded with

Glistening gems and

The milky way

Elegant, refined

Silken black sheets

On a queen-sized

Bed, alluring

Dark chocolate

Solid and

Perfectly cold;

The way

it breaks

In your mouth,

like little chunks of


The tingling


The spiders of


When a stray branch

Conjures a shape in

The feeble curtains,

Tendrils and

Webbed fingers and

Jaded claws

Trying to pull

You away

Black button eyes

on Coraline’s “mother”

And sleek black cars

Zooming out of view,

The wings of a fallen angel,

cast down from heaven,

like meteor gardens

Sinister yet


A pot of ink

Painting a thousand


And the old raven

That perches,

Intellectual and


Yet silently carrying

The weight

Of the



The different shades

Of charcoal pencils, sketching

On the paper, highlighting,

Darkening, an intricacy

To behold,

Nimbus clouds with their

Heavy freight,

Ready to weep their

Chastening burden,

The days that pass

Monotonous and sedated

Sluggish lace curtains


The pocket watch

With its quaint

Little hand frozen

In place,

And the way

You stared at the ceiling

at two in the

morning, blank

and devoid

of thought

The lone

Wolf that sang

In the forest clearing

Begging for the

Luminescent moon

To forget its graceful

Descent, The moth-eaten

Scarf you never care

To wear, but won’t

Throw out,

Unpainted cement walls,

lackluster office

daily grind

Old machinery

walking spastic,

The scent of old

Books and fragrant


Dust bunnies

Hopping around under

Your bed, laying

Empty Easter eggs

On your cracking head, and the

pebbles you threw in the

Murky lake,

Twice, thrice, it skipped

before sinking,

Bubbling, reaching the

Sandy grit and foam to

Join your heart

And other

Lost things.


Veronica Lejano (author) on September 11, 2020:

Thank you, Lorna! I'm glad you enjoyed them.

Lorna Lamon on September 11, 2020:

A wonderful collection of poetry to muse over. I particularly enjoyed 'Marmalade'. Beautifully penned and a joy to read.

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