Hue Explosion

Blotted ink captivating the page
glistening with deepened sage
fascinating shades of colored glory
hues of violet distinguish the story

Splattered emotion dabbled in paint
featured bleakness chipped; faint
promised tales a splotchy mess
tinctured cerulean must confess

Semblance of pigment quickly stripped
fables of love withheld from the script
circles of complexion cascade the drain
remarkable magic falters, brushed strain.

A Clock Stopped

One wish, if I had it, I would give it to you
Two sides of a life, one was false, now is true
Three years together, all belonging to me
Four eyes point together, two remain free
Five years since I glimpsed my future arrive
Six senses erect toward that which I strive
Seven deaths to enrich the idea of heaven
Eight breaks to decide hope will not leaven
Nine countries to discover for one that I pine
Ten fingers entangled and all of them mine
Eleven ticks of a hand to remind me of seven
Twelve and a clock stops...
Here I find you, in heaven.