Here, There be a Writer

Thursday, October 8, 2015

OctPoWriMo: Symphony of Hues

Today's Prompt: I'm sure you've noticed it as well. Certain colors may make you happier when you see them. Maybe dark blue reminds you of your Aunt Tilda's dining room curtains. That's where you'd always eat supper when you visited as a child. It was one of your favorite childhood memories, because she always
made the best dinner.

Write a poem talking about a color and your memories attached to it. Bring us along for the memory's journey.

I really couldn't settle on one colour or emotion. In fact, I was rather hard pressed to pick a colour that prompted a strong emotional attachment. So then I thought a thought, and that thought grew. I tried a little bit, using a form I have used before. A harder form, with rhyme and repetition. And do you know what I got, Dear Readers? A flat lot of crap! No kidding, nothing, zero, zilch, bupkis.

It was back to the drawing board.

 I couldn't settle of a form to use. Nothing was jumping out at me. But somewhere in the dark there was an idea. If I couldn't pick ONE colour, I would use them all. Not even sure that this works. It's free verse and something I feel like I ramble when I write in free verse. But the image I had of the colours of rainbow having personalities resonated with me. Try something a little different and put some old flavours and a few new to the colours. It feels like a symphony of colour.

I do hope you enjoy, Dear Readers. And visit the other poets at OctPoWriMo.

From MorgueFile
Symphony of Hues

Sing me a song
that the colours sing--
a rainbow swirling dance.

Of reds,
that firey birth do bring of
King of the rainbow, Patriarch of Primary.
or would that be a Matriarch instead?

Of Yellows and Oranges,
kin to the Rojo,
they follow the Leader
as Queen 
and Jack,
but which order do they take.

Of Greens,
the stuff of life
that grows under the sun
and breaths for the world
she is the Mother.

Of Blues,
Father of green,
cool and refreshing
and singing songs
of oceans and skies,
and early morning dreams.

Of Indigo,
shy little thing over shadowed by
So few know she is there,
a virginal youth
the at wanders the pathways
and tickles the senses.

Of Purple,
royalty true
and thinking it the Lion of Mankind,
over that which stands at the head,
but is child of the Primary Kings.

Of Rosy Pinks,
not born of Serpent's back,
but of maybe Fire and Ice,
in the Morning's crisp dawn
as the babe of the colour spectrum.

Of Browns,
lest we forget that they make up the base 
of all the we know
standing upon
Earth on Terra Firma...

Of Blacks and whites,
to the the deepest night...
to the morning's light...
as in purest form - Dark versus Light
and maybe shades of Grey to tie them together.


  1. A truly beautiful poem. I really liked how you personified each color, and the images you evoked. Thanks for sharing!

  2. Gorgeous, delicious images within your poem! I think you captured their likenesses very well

  3. If this is rambling you should do it more often. This is gorgeous, milady.

  4. I really enjoyed this! I loved how you have each color of the spectrum a persona; just lovely!


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