She Said

 

She said stepping

Into the blue is

Like slipping

From yellow,

The brightness

Of light a little

More mellow,

Mist from the

Music will

Steal us away,

The teasing

Aroma will beg

That we stay,

But we can`t

For we must

Travel the prism,

Get back to white

Before dark

Dries the chrism.

 

Stephen Nesbitt ©
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