Ode to the color WHITE

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The sky screams blue
regardless of who
looks up and sneaks
more than just a peek.
The clouds too
are easily charmed
oft by the crimson hue
of a sun burning you.

I ponder and ponder
under trees too green
in the quest to conquer
my questions that wander
far too farther
only to inquire
of a shade no darker.
With a sigh, I admire
a dove above
on an electric wire.
My brain playing lyres
and I could but stare
with a curious fire
What about white?

Of the snow
from the heavens it flows,
of the pearls
around your neck it curls,
of the cotton
used when sodden,
of the salt
to taste in flimsy vaults,
of the frost
on windowsills sticking soft.
What about the clear,
the plain and bare?
What about moonlight,
roaring the color white?

-Vedangee

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