When I think of
the color yellow,
I think of
my favorite tube of chapstick
and big pitchers
of ice cold lemonade
that come to my aid
on sweltering hot summer days.
Summer days on which
my favorite flower begins to bloom;
Trumpet shaped daffodils
that lend the world their perfume.
I think of playgrounds
with big yellow slides,
and the flashing lights
on amusement park rides.
I think of Taxi's I've hailed,
pencils I've used
to write and draw in detail.
Other things that come to mind,
I've come to find
are Swedish ducks
and hunks of cheese,
cheese I'll add in excess to omelets I can devour with ease.
I think of giant yellow school buses
I've rode for the last fifteen years,
and nasty yellow jackets
of which I have a deathly fear.
I think of rain coats,
ripe bananas,
big gold hoops
and yellow bandanas;
and how could I forget to mention chicken noodle soup?
The color yellow
has always brought me joy,
especially as of late,
because of one particular
blonde-haired boy.
ВЫ ЧИТАЕТЕ
Habits of the Heart
Поэзия𝓜y words are the equivalent of a rose petal spiraling down the Grand Canyon, and you are it's echo.
