She’s walked in early today
in a flamboyant dress of black.
I can count them all, dearest and dismay.
Beguiling blue Mondays
Loony yellow T for Tuesdays
Vivid checked Wednesdays
Flowery purple Thursdays
Calming caramel Fridays
Deep blush of my cheek — that’s her Saturdays and Sundays.
She just walked by in a radiant hue.
I’m alright, just feigning to be laid back.
I can hear them all, false and true.
Guileless giggles, Glossy good morning,
Sugary vocabulary on a stranger’s meeting,
Feather tickled fit of sneezing.
A silent smile — the most pleasing.
Myriad colours I’ve seen.
I could paint my never ending canvas of a memory.
Amused by the cadence of her words,
I wrote a poem, how naive,
and called it a love story.
She’s dressed as Germany. Ahoy!
Red, black and yellow.
Ain’t I the most faithfully observant boy?
Maybe I’m a tad too shy,
a simple fellow.
All for what joy?
Not a single colour
to bless my cheek,
not a single word