Sunday, 14 June 2015

Colour Poem

Orange is the flame that heats up a cold room,
Autumn leafs are like orange ghosts that wave all around in spring at night,
An orange globe dangling of a tree like a mini sun,
A mandarin swiftly building momentum to drop from a tree,
The orange fire flies slowly drifting throw the fresh crisp air,
A smooth carrot slowly glooming from the ground. 

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