Saturday, March 13, 2010

Chromatic Discontentment

By Rick Williams

The colors of the rainbow
one day stood in the sky.
They formed a circle as they stood,
and words began to fly.

The color Blue was first to speak,
and looking left and right,
said, "I'm the prettiest color here;
at least within my sight."

Purple scoffed and said, "No way.
I'm much less plain than Blue.
I am mixed of you and Red
so I'm prettier than either of you."

Red flushed her cheeks in anger.
"Are you saying that your hue
is better than my crimson tone
because you're mixed with Blue?"

She said, "If I could leave this line
I don't know where I'd go,
but it would be near someone else.
That--for sure I know."

"I'm pretty and important."
Orange was heard to say.
"A fruit was even named for me
that helps people start their day."

Yellow piped up in a squeaky voice,
"I am so cheery and bright!
My color makes mustard and lemons
and flowers like daffodils look right!"

Then Green, in a sultry voice, chimed in.
"I'm am the color of life," she said,
"The world of plants is my claim to fame
so I'm most definitely ahead."

They all began to argue
and grumbling ensued
each claiming only they
were perfectly hued.

Then, above, a pleasant voice was heard,
and a light began to shine.
She said, "What is all this bickering
and why do you all whine?"

"To argue of your beauty
like each of you were best;
don't any of you see how much
that each of you is blessed?"

"I haven't the color of any of you
for White is the absence of all;
still, I am happy as I am,
seeing smiles during snowfall."

"Each of you is special
and you're all in great demand.
Without your different hues and shades
this world would be so bland."

The colors were all silent
then a rain began to fall,
and the circle opened to create
the most beautiful rainbow of all.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Fingernail Moon

By Rick Williams

A crescent moon shone down upon
the frosty countryside.
It bathed the fields in ghostly white,
throwing shadows far and wide.

The air was still; no breezes blew;
There was no trace of sound.
The only noises that were heard:
My footsteps on the ground.

A fine, light frost on everything
was bathed in a bluish glow.
The lunar light lit everything
and sparkled like new snow.

Somewhere out there creatures lived
but nothing moved or stirred.
The cold night sky held naught but moon;
no insect, bat, or bird.

It looked like a torn off fingernail
but its brightness would belie
the fact that it was not complete
and but a sliver in the sky.