Her Many Colors

He loved her many colors, 
She loved his wistful song,
They spent each year together,
But nights grew long —

And though the cold and echoes came,
The warmth kept coming through,
For love’s a thing of color,
Worked out in what

We do

Published by

Beleaguered Servant

Owen Servant is an online poet working in a style that's been described as "compulsive". In real life, he is an actuary, because being a poet wasn't unpopular enough.

Leave a Reply