Each brush stroke between the contours,
Paints a different colour of my life.
Forming an abstract picture of my soul.
The background, a spread of black swans wings
With white spots like Nordic snow.
A splash of green, for Ireland’s fields,
Running red from wars I’ve known.
A wanting shade of purple,
For when jealousy prevailed;
A camouflage of mottled grey,
The colour for all that I betrayed.
Some sprinkling of yellow
To represent some happy sunny days,
And I’m sure that laughters colour
Is mixed in with this somewhere.
Last of all a rainbow cloud
To embrace all the places I have been;
God only draws us all in pen and ink,
We paint the true colours colours in between.
© Fingleton (Juin 2016) (Löst Viking)