Colour

BeeBee

She sits atop the sunset, 

She sits inside our veins, 

She hangs high from the trees, 

She shows the worst of pain

 

She warns us of danger,

And flickers in Hestia’s hearth, 

She runs out from gashes, 

With us from the start

 

She is there in everything, 

In all but those blue blooded, 

She’s written into fairytales, 

About girls whose heads are hooded, 

 

She’s found on fruit, 

Sat high up in the leaves, 

Apples, cherries, raspberries, 

The juices well received




  • Author: Be (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: May 29th, 2025 11:11
  • Comment from author about the poem: Hi, the whole point of this poem is to be able to tell the colour by the end, despite it not being mentioned. Thanks! - Be
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 10
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Comments +

Comments2

  • sorenbarrett

    Clever and the root of poetry. How to tell something without naming it. A lovely write

    • BeeBee

      Thank you!

    • Poetic Licence

      A cleverly crafted write, enjoyed the read

      • BeeBee

        Glad you enjoyed!

        • Poetic Licence

          You are very welcome



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