Shut Eye

In color I dream;

purple pastures of bedazzled fuchsia,

sprinkled dust glistens,

the chimerical meets reality,

while an owl tells timelessly,

and I control the plot.

There is something unordinary about this air,

it transport me where,

platinum skies release emerald teardrops.

On a quest to find the bottom in search of gold I run,

distant, by way of violet sun.

Hanging over the hilltop, I can see my arched array.

So I sail over orange grass fertilized from festive flowers,

and on tranquil sapphire breezes,

I kiss nature on the check, and lay hot in January’s snow.

I am chasing rainbows,

trying to make my flight


of three kites.

© LaRonda Moore

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