"Poetry and hums aren't things which you get, they're things which get you. All you can do is go where they can find you" – A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh
Light blue, I think of you.
Open, broad, far reaching sky
or a sea that meets an end in deeper hue
for days I could sit, let years go by
And not another thought, I think, would do.
Tears are tinted, secret blue
a secret drop down a hot stung cheek
such secrets shed for a secret few.
Yet in silent words of sorrow they speak
of love which has let time undo.
The sides of days, in their light grey smear,
Those golden hours where magic lies,
When day or night is still unclear.
accompanied by young couples sighs
This blue is what you are my dear.