Crayola crayons strewn about
Linoleum floor of Grandma’s house
From the tin they drop and fall
Colors myriad see them all
Which of which are you inclined?
Then this book of shapes and lines
Within which he will not choose
a blank page is what he awaits
I do digress
What a mess
Eight glorious crayons Crayola brand
The scent itself is
Oh So Grande!
Feels like wax these crayons Mom
Paper smooth between finger thumb
To each new thing a certain fragrance
Sights so wondrous sets eyes aglow
Every sense in overdrive Such a hindrance
How will he ever choose
he doesn’t know
Draw the family Mommy said
I’ll draw the sunshine
Said he instead
Mom, what color should I use?
The color of my Easter shoes.
The one that feels wonderfully warm upon on your back
while holding hands and walking Jack.
It looks the brightest when in the the skies
against the blue like Daddy’s eyes
The color that shines down on your skin
while you play and laugh and splash and swim
Lighting your everlasting smile
Which comes from you. The color of the brightest star
for my darling child
everything you are.
On the page
sketch radiant light
until you’re through
Then with crayolas always true
draw luminous stars to light the night
Use your hand, crayons too
vivid colors, dazzling shades, eternal hues
The colors of my love for you.
Writing Group Prompt: Story about color without naming the color.