Adrift

My mind wanders in many hues
although, usually, only one stands out
one darker and richer on the scale
of wondrous vision beyond doubt

if a heliotrope be a flower
and plum not for eating
where does pink recline
my feeble mind set to reeling

the morning sunrise finds me
red eyed of insomnias repose
longing for sunsets loaded pallet
the masters brush painting her in prose