Melding

MELDING

Sometimes colour overwhelms us;

It dazzles and explodes!

Our senses reel with brilliance;

Colour  strains and overloads.
It's just like someone shouting
Or a clarion-call that's brash.
'Look at me!' it bellows,
'I can sparkle! I can flash!'
'I'm RED!' you'll hear it jangle;
'I'm ORANGE!' hear it yell.
Yet we sometimes yearn for shades
As soft as those inside a shell.
This beautiful mosaic
Is gentle on the mind.
We can quietly peruse it
And see what we can find.
It's very beige is soothing;
It's texture finger-felt.
We enjoy the shapes and shadings
That mix and meld and melt.
Can you find the pieces
Of the pottery and tile?
The oyster shells and pearls
That once grew closely for a while?
The crystal and the marble
Now so smoothly intertwined?
White turquoise? There's a wonder
That's very hard to find.
And there's something called a microbead
Nestling in this scene;
Something small and round and bright
And neat and beige and clean.
This is a tactile picture.
Were it in vivid hues
We might gain in intensity
But, oh, what we would lose!