An Armful of Color
Were I to cull hope, a bud at a time,
would it help you cope, fill your arms
with a ray of sun to brighten your day,
lift the burden from your weary soul?
Tonight I watch stars, believe that good
can become ours if only we believe
that in darkness, dense though it be,
pain so intense will soon dissipate.
Accept these flowers and all they represent—
lavender joy is ours, and yellow, pink—
so much fragrance to ease your spirit
with which I embrace the depth of your pain.
Linking to dVerse MTB where we are playing with different type of rhyme. I tried some things I’ve never done before. Thanks for a great prompt, Walt.