Heart drenches in showers
of chromatic multitudes,
blithe and blight hues
meld alike sherbet.

They dapple rivulets of mind,
shrouded with tacit brume,
blossoming alike rainbows
or murky clouds in my zenith.

Broken apart from syllables,
those hues are spring blossoms,
wist of the midsummer breeze,
awaiting rain and brumal lease.

They are sherbet ardor,
that soaks my pellucid heart,
which colors my very being,
colors the sere ocean of thoughts.