The time has come My little doves To contemplate many things Of colors, life, and music tracks And of internal mumblings.
How do you feel the color yellow? Yellow feels like the sun warm on your face, kissing your eye lashes. Yellow is an over plush, soft blanket enveloping you in safty and warmth. It is a smile on a sad day. A glimmer through the fingers of disparaging clouds after the rain. A glimpse of hevan trickling down through the tufts of clouds to show the way. Yellow is a flame danceing alone in a window pane. It a hightlighter makeing notes bold faced and new. Golden in the eyes of a ferral animal. It is the eyes shineing from the darkness to bring fear and salvation. The color of skin stricken with illness, and the syringe to heal. It is the bright salvation of one lost in the confines. The lantern light danceing gilded on the way. Yellow is a ribbon on a tree, saveing a hug for a soldier. Yellow is light. It is snow you get your friends to eat. Yellow is everywhere and nowhere. It is the second to arrive and the next to last to leave. It is a neon sighn flickering its wears. Yellow is soft cotton draped on a frame twerling in the wind. It wraps us in its rapturous sensation to make us cry. Yellow is a glow. Yellow is a feeling. Yellow tastes bitter and sweet. It is the sounds of laughter and joy. A mellow moment to drink up life. Yellow is delicate. Yellow is hard. Yellow smiles to give you cheer. Yellow engulfs dispair.