Colors of Winter
Bashful muted blue floats
its purest white anew
atop the rising morning clouds
of mingling moistness
where pearl grey gently gusts
its pillowed plush parade
across the streak-lined,
time illusive skyline.
A shy silver sky intently listens
as she gaily glitter-glistens
over lavender laced hill lines,
and stalwart, patient horizons.
Dry as ash black, shameless limbs
shudder their sulking silhouettes
against the sneak-creeping in
of a day darkening dusk.
Twice ice-dressed wind chime,
peering through window's crystalline whimsy,
refrains from its frozen tinkle song of delight,
to stare uncaring into another flimsy night
where peace can never find respite
from its dim-lit secret,
that solo tip-toe frolics and flits
amidst misty dusk-driven shadows.
Reveling in the placid chill of sunset fingertips
that amiably caress her silence,
she bows an unabashed arabesque
to her haunting stale-tale tune of regret.
Alone, locked away unseen, screaming pain unheard,
her fading faith fancifully spins its chaos
beyond yesterday's morose moonlit madness,
on into tomorrow's wishful daydream wonderings.
Where is she now,
who no longer cares to ride
the chill breath of winter's
tempest straying streams?
Why does she cry away an eternity
of forlorn days laden with wasted
wind-wisped tears wept for whom
time has proven undeserving?
When will she taste the unspoken whispers
of a confidant's saccharine kisses,
melting with a passion of sensitivity
upon her wanton, abandoned lips?
How will she survive the looming million millennia,
captured half-alive hungry within
the frozen icy cage bars
of each new winter's cruel neglect?
Now paled by a blue melancholia,
yet, wet-white uplifted, she prays,
and mercy tames to shades of ghostly grey,
discovers every remorse concealed,
forever fading secretly away
into the unknown nothingness
of another silver-black day
that yearns for slumber's solace.
~P.S. Colley ~
c. 2024
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