The world is a chameleonic kaleidoscope
As you stroll past the prisms,
From one view, broad streaks of goldenrod,
An auroral amber, a sparkling saffron,
A lovely patch of buttercups laced in twinkling dewdrops,
Vibrant as the warmth of the summer sun’s glow,
Sprightly as the bright chirp of a canary,
Brimming with vigor, hope and cheer,
Grinning and laughing with a whole-hearted spirit,
Under the thick, golden ribbons that wrap the heavens in a bow.

From another, shades of cool blue,
A crestfallen cobalt, a troubled teal,
Cold drops that splatter and trickle on a day downcast and glum,
As dejected and doleful as a withered forget-me-not,
When you’re a pale, hazy, shadow that drifts through time,
Heavy with heartbreak, exhausted of passion,
Weary and strained with the weight of darkness,
As if you were viewing things from the depths of the sea, murky and glassy and silent.