Colors to a blind eye

The colors wanted her to know them.

Source : pinterest.com

BLUE stood in front of her lifeless eyes and made her listen to her city's lights. She now knows of how AMBITION feels like.

RED had always mused over how she never knew of her HEART'S form. Now with a touch of Red, she knows how wonderfully it beats!

When her bare feet crushed an autumn leaf, BROWN had introduced her with what he had known the best - EARTH.

When a little boy with hands as small as the moon handed her his lollipop, GREEN with all his YOUTHFULNESS and GENEROSITY had waved her a "HI"

YELLOW lit fire for her. The flames handed over their warmth to let her know of the HOPE that yellow brings along.

GRAY greeted her with his OLD hands. That day, those two wrinkled hands had held her young fingers, giving life to her dead eyes.

Now BLACK had his turn. He stood in front of her, silently pondering on how he gave a darker shade to every color. She smiled and waved to her old friend.

How to write a poem

The word written on moon shall be the title.
The poem starts with what the mountains would have to say.
Hear them! Hear them, you writer and let your pen breathe.
And when your paper seems vacant,
the flowers shall give you the right metaphors.
The ocean, far and wide, will whisper through its waves,"there's never a perfect length of a stanza!"
The air will know how to rhyme.
Words floating on water shall have meanings that you will never know.
Coffee will make you end the poem.
Don't forget to glance the dried leaf once, you'll know what to omit.
Now write something with an invisible ink. People will never get to read it. Readers will understand.

And then, hold the paper with your hands as a champion holds her trophy and wonder how a paper could fit in the moon, the mountains, the ocean and flowers with your words.

source - www.speedyessays.com

The grey hedge of winter

The grey hedge of winter wants you to see what it bears.
It wants you to feel what it feels like to hold beauty.
There! You see a beautiful flower amongst the ordinary ones.
The flower, red as blood,
stands above the hedge as if it's the tallest soldier in a parade.

The grey hedge of winter knows,
that a lover must pluck the flower to prove what's fading slowly.
It knows!
that a kid must pluck it for he doesn't know how to calm his curiosities.
It knows!
that humans want to hold beauty in their hands but not let the beautiful live.
The hedge knows it all.

The grey hedge of winter knows while a lover or a child must come and take away its art, YOU will not!
You will stand and guard its beauty.
You will not let someone snatch it from the hedge of winter.
You'll make the others watch the beauty too!
Because you've already realized what the hedge wants us humans to learn - that little red flower is making the ordinary feel beautiful.