My Favourite Colour

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    My Favourite Colour

    I like blues
    of all hues
    and infancy   

                                  cerulean
                                  and aqua                   
                                  and turquoise
                                  and ash

                                                                   navy
                                                                   and baby
                                                                   and Persian
                                                                   and sky

                                                                                                  indigo
                                                                                                  and powder
                                                                                                  the bluest of flames
     
                                                                                                  azure and midnight
                                                                                                                   and cobalt
                                                                                                                       and rain
                
                                                                  the sparkle of sapphire
                                                                  the coldness of steel
     
                                                                  the blueness of jazz
                                                                  and aquamarine

                              I fancy yellows . .

                              like that
                              of a sunflower
                              in full bloom
                              dripping dew
                              at sunrise

    burnt sienna . .

    tinted
    inflections
    of saffron   

                             infused
                             chartreuse tangerine
                                     amber’s secrets

                                                                        the burst               
                                                                                               of
                                                                        a new day come

                                                                                                              the proliferation
                                                                                                                                          of
                                                                                                                an autumn sunset

                                                                   and yet

                                                                      still . .

                                                         my favourite colour   
       
                                                                       is

                                                       B u t t   N a k e d   .   .   !



    © mingoáo - 明 - The Writings of Mingoáo Inc. is the exclusive agent, publisher-distributor of the Writings, Designs and Ideas of Mingoáo. No part nor whole of the Work exhibited herein may be copied, transcribed, reproduced, performed, nor, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, not by carrier pigeon, pony express, smoke signal, slingshot, sled dog, not even by alien spacecraft, nor stored by any information storage and/or retrieval system, past, present or future, nor translated, without the expressed written consent of the Owner. ~ By displaying, exhibiting, publishing or presenting this work Privately or Publicly, the Owner in no way perceived or believed , relinquishes his rights to the work partially or entirely -  Not to be Copied, Altered, Forwarded, Distributed, Shared, Nor Transferred. There’s no warranty; not even for Merchantability or Fitness For a,  and, or any Particular Purpose.

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    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    Ming’s Poems (18)

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