Marcy

A life that’s painted different colors,
And at times it needs repair,
A fresh coat of paint to hide the pain,
A dream that we both share,
What color should I associate,
With passion or with pleasure,
Would the depth of the color,
Be a hue that I could measure.
 
 
We live with the colors of the rainbow,
And with each there are different shades,
With each and every day painted,
But some colors that are replayed,
There are certain colors we look to,
Like the blue in a cloudless sky,
Is blue somehow likened to sadness,
Such as the blue in these blue eyes.
 
 
From blue to orange can be a colored flame,
And we always think of a bright red rose,
Though for the past and the present,
It’s whatever color we chose,
We might paint ourselves into a corner,
Or follow a yellow brick road,
With dreams a variety of colors,
And passion a river that flows.
 
 
Happiness might be any color,
As the heart is a paintbrush for dreams,
And color flows from the darkness,
While our passion flows in streams,
A red rose lives in my memories,
And rose petals fill the head,
There’s been a time when a rainbow,
Had it’s pot of gold in my bed.
 
 
There are flowers of every color,
An artist’s paintbrush gone wild,
In my dreams I’m surrounded by colors,
And emotions that make me smile,
The heart can paint a beautiful picture,
With love every color combined,
As passion is somehow painted by love,
And by those colors it’s then defined.
 
 
All of us paint our own landscape,
From mountains to a sandy beach,
And as our hearts paint the picture,
It’s our passions for which we reach,
In the colors of our eyes,
There are shades of every fashion,
And as I grasp love in the heart,
Both love and dreams are painted by passion.

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