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Another of my thoughts. I do have them now and then...
My friends, we are crayons.
Though as capable of drawing a line or marking a page
We are not quite as the 'ordinary';
The pens, the pencils.
By our nature we are fragile.
Though each different in hue or texture
We have similarities that place us
In the same box.
That box however offers sanctuary,
Left discarded on the desk of life
We can be in peril from things unfelt by the 'ordinary'.
Within the box we gain safety and strength from those around us.
Secure with those we can venture forth
To embrace our uniqueness,
To show our true colours
And the worth of who we are.
That is as it should be.
For we are crayons.
Love the analogy JAneS. Now you KNOW what the followup to this HAS to be? What color are YOU? Then others can join in. I need to think about what mine is and do some research first to see what best fits....you may have unleashed more than you intended....:)
Cynthia
Well put Ladies.
I'll go with fuchsia
Claudia
I think I'll go with my mom's favorite 'cause it REALLY kind of fits my situation-what is it?.......sky blue pink!
Cynthia
Yin and Yang,
Green and Burgundy, because of my love of nature. Green is Spring and life coming back into the world and Burgundy for the deep Red leaves turn right before they fall from the trees in Autumn.
I like that-also Autumn is when the old masculine shell is shed and falls to the earth while Spring is when the beautiful new flower opens and blooms!
Great analogy. I would say that I'd be a soft pink or deep purple. Make me want to get fully dressed now. That was great food for thought. Mmmmmm
Heather
I wish I could move this to Poet's Corner...
Hey, I did it...
Like always Jane, you've hit the proverbeal nail on the head....your abilty to put thiughts on paper continue to astound me. You always have the ability to make me go hmmmmmm.
Loved it!!!
2016_poets corner: CDH JS original post:
Another of my thoughts. I do have them now and then…
My friends, we are crayons.
Though as capable of drawing a line or marking a page
We are not quite as the ‘ordinary’;
The pens, the pencils.
By our nature we are fragile.
Though each different in hue or texture
We have similarities that place us
In the same box.
That box however offers sanctuary,
Left discarded on the desk of life
We can be in peril from things unfelt by the ‘ordinary’.
Within the box we gain safety and strength from those around us.
Secure with those we can venture forth
To embrace our uniqueness,
To show our true colours
And the worth of who we are.
That is as it should be.
For we are crayons.
