Orange is at the cheerful end of the spectrum.
It should spill out it’s zest so I can live and love
in a golden shower,
taste exotic fruit, engulfed in an ecstasy of orange light,
be part of a story with a happy ending, full of sunshine.
Bright gleaming reds and yellows are not far away.
Orange is their combination, inevitably.
Yellow and red.
Cowardly, acidic and dangerous when parted from each other.
Colours have different moods when separated. As we do.
So this palette can hide more than it reveals.
And now it forms a mask on the face of black despair,
a bright new dawn
that breaks the surface, but one which is not wanted, not desired.
A flash of lightening breaking up the continuum of my horizon.
There’s a cloud of bright dust swirling in a stormy sky,
with darkness following blocking out the sun,
destroying the light
Rain like tears must follow as the light disperses
and the golden sun is cracked open to reveal it’s inner stone.
This bright cloak of orange light is wrapped round me
like a comfort blanket hiding my spilt zest in it’s brightness.
Fear, sourness and hurt
lie within, inseparable and undiminished by the brightness outside,
the golden glow which is coating this time with sadness.