Red

red headed Hilda

 

red hair

red lips

red nails

red cheeks

red shadows

red toes

red smiles

red promises

red

by Crystal Alexander

 

sometimes poppies grow

and surprise us

in a meadow

after the rain

touches seeds

hiding

in the dark

Definition #334 Crayola Explosion

                                          Glue crayons and melt with a hair dryer on canvas

red orange yellow

green blue indigo violet

rainbow spectrum dance

Day One: Definition #241 rainbow arches

rainbow arches

point-leap-reach-touch-down

red-orange-yellow-green-blue-

indigo-violet

Hair Color

Jan Hutchinson has been delighting us with daily prompts for Poetry Month. Today’s poem should sound like a child wrote it.

Crayola Crayons in a Box

“Your hair is red,
Your hair is black;
I see it now as blue.
Soon we’re back

To brown and then
Your hair is green:”
Crayons in Crayola Box!
Hair color fit for Queen!

( I scrutinize the roots for a mirror clue;
But find none, save: imagination!)

Talisman

Magic juju
charmed voodoo
safety do

Red bag
flame hag
hat zag

(supernatural protection)

Hair Color

Jan Hutchinson has been delighting us with daily prompts for Poetry Month. Today’s poem should sound like a child wrote it.

“Your hair is red,
Your hair is black;
I see it now as blue.
Soon we’re back

To brown and then
Your hair is green:”
Crayons in Crayola Box!
Hair color fit for Queen!

( I scrutinize the roots for a mirror clue;
But find none, save: imagination!)

Riddle#3

Jeanne’s Red Hair

Sparkle
on top:
glittering shades
of red, garnet, flame and
fire-engine screams, follicles reaching out;
a crown of royal antiquity, knowing youth, middle and old age.

(Did I get the FIB right this time?)

Southwest

Southwest, orange, red and blue
breaks the sound barrier of my ears.
Sings and jokes; stretches, bends
small details ’til they’re snug; no fears!

Breaks the sound barrier of my ears:
flies above 30,000 feet of clouds:
hums its path ‘bove westward planes below.

Sings and jokes; stretches, bends
in cabin’s curves: accommodate each soul:
infants, old, and broken boned.

Small details ’til they’re snug: no fears!
the weather’s fair; the night sky drops its skirts
on sleepy tired folks who land and find their rest.