Showing posts with label shape and color of meals and poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shape and color of meals and poems. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Why do I notice only today

these beauties? Bearded irises of a hue I have not seen before. Shape defines the what; color offers the awe.  It's the same with a meal, really. Or a poem. Can't you just smell it?  Taste it?  And, of course, there's the dream's take-on it. The dream always has a take on things and it's usually the final word.