It’s the colour that beguiles beyond a reasonable doubt
lends ardor to the curve of eloquent lips
eliciting hue from lofty trees and sun’s eclipse.
It whispers and smiles when we blush about
when heart has unraveled all her secrets out.
Red, as nectar from pomegranate benignly drips
would that we win war of senses and come to grips
it’s the colour of memory, one which we can’t live without.
Red, as autumn arrives with amourous leaves
when the world’s enveloped in dreamless sleep
it’s the colour of want in the hour of solace.
Though glorious this shade often sin interweaves
hush, let us beg Lord for kindness in our souls to keep
Red, come take my flaws and leave me flawless.
Photo credits: Pinterest
Form: Italian Sonnet
Posted for Weekend Mini-Challenge @ Real Toads
And Posted on the poetry pantry @ poets united