2Synesthesia
The world is an artist's palette
To my ears.
The sounds of life
Dance across my mind's canvass,
Painting colored wisps of orange song,
Bursts of fuchsia joy,
And streams of darkened misfortune.
Rain falling on concrete
On a cool spring morning in the sun
Sparkles pink and orange,
While the whispering wind
Blows a pale yellow,
And my own voice sings
A violet song.
Guitars strum a cherry red,
Laughter chuckles in white,
And near silent tears
Cry the faintest of grays.
But your voice is my favorite color of all:
A turquoise so pure
It rivals the skies.
It's a shade that has me sighing in content,
Yet is rarely seen enough that it
Makes my heart flutter with excitement.
Oh, how I wish,
How I wish you to see
The beauty it brings to this senseless colored frenzy.
How I wish you to see
This color that means a smile, a light kiss, an embrace.
How I wish you to see this hue of blue as I do.
But Maybe...just maybe the next time you whisper my name,
You will be able to spy
The rainbows flashing like the melodies of my favorite song
Through my brown chocolate eyes.