Orange and Red
Orange the flower rarely seen,
And, red the dotted stigma,
So small,
These poignant points,
They push, push, push-
The red into your eye,
How does the brilliant red,
The bloodiest red runs down,
As if aspirin filled and thin skinned,
You pricked the cup at its base,
Just a bit; you mind,
To bleed,
Bright red,
Yet, keep the white
of the original flower,
And, the orange,
Red and yellow,
But, why in this venue,
Simple and supple orange,
Lighter than the fruited kind,
God designed this,
Thank you, God!
Peter Lowell Paulson
July 1, 2014
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