Poetry: Colourful Spirit

                                                       Colourful Spirit

Teasing their woes away, 

Under the tall, shady Trumpet tree, 

Both danced ever gracefully, 

To the songs of their beating hearts, 

Enthralled, 

By the stories of their beautiful minds, 

Even the Sun showered its blessings,

Sprinkling its radiance of new hope, 

Onto these young infatutated hearts,

How sublime this rosy reverie was,

Awoke to the loud cuckoo, 

Of the glossy blue black plumaged being, 

The Koel bird perched majestically on the branch,

Her eyes squinted, 

As her dream evanescenced, 

Into the break of dawn,

The merciless arms of the clock kept ticking, 

Fleeting by as it usually would, 

Especially in the early morning daze, 

Sighing her Tuesday beginnings away, 

Tucked under her warm sheets, 

It was comfort she fervently seeked,

Cold air,

From the mounted rotating blades above her head,

Freezed her uncovered little toes, 

Like a foetus, she curled in, 

Kindling the warmth of her fiery soul, 

In hope of perhaps a little heat, 

From this frigid cold world, 

Dragging her bodily existence, 

Of her deprived subconcious, 

Her eyes stared back in desolation, 

Tunes that were once playing in her head,

Deafened and drowed, 

Deep into her destructable thoughts,

Flowers that were once watered and bloomed, 

In her garden of life, 

Withered onto the dry malnourished ground of her heart, 

Like fragile mountain dew drops,

Sliding towards gravity from the leaves,

Salty tears filled with painful despair,

Flowed flawlessly down her pale brown cheeks,

It was as if her heavy shoulders collapsed,

From the long perpetual bearing,

Of her unspoken tribulations,

Sealed lips seemed easier,

To cope with this soul drifting astray,

Yet,
Like the high tide rising by the empty shores,
So did her deep colourful living spirits,
Clinging onto her every bone,
Hidden stalwart in her credence,
Cupping her hands with running cold water,
She splashed on to her bare visage,
Washing away her locked anguish,
Still believing,
As her hopeful desire for happiness lingers.

By Jessica John Posko💗