When is a Red not a Red?

A plea for help and with an anxious air,
I helped my daughter to dye her hair
She said she wanted it pinky red
And there on the box ‘cherry’ it said
But the photo looked a lot like soup
I started to feel my spirits droop
I urged her to maybe try a mix
– once it’s done, not so easy to fix…
reluctantly she said she’d give it a go
And soon we were able to go with the flow.
That flow it soon gushed down the sink
A tomato soup orange instead of the pink
But when the mop head was dried and glimpsed
The colour was great – glad it was rinsed
Well and repeated again and again,
until with a toss of her beautiful mane
she declared it looked suitably current…
Fruity with depth…like a little blackcurrant!
Black cherry red

Twenty shades of Green

Everything has gone a shade of …well… green!

My father said he’d never ever seen

So many clashing shades of green before

And blue he would have liked a little more.

We added them up and made it twenty

“Twenty shades of green – that’s more than plenty!”

There’s still the old blind to hide our faces,

And the sage coloured tiles every three spaces,

The food bin, the swing bin, Shreddies box top,

The lime coloured pot that we mustn’t drop!

Bromeliad leaves – such a beautiful flower;

The display on the oven showing the hour.

Mugs and a ‘twist it’, the utensil pot,

Apples ; golden, delicious(quite a lot!)

There’s a green-tipped pen from our Cardiff trip,

And a green-topped sponge if the milk should tip.

Under the tea cosy (keeping it hot)

Lies a green tea bag in green tea pot.

The words on the plaque on the new green wall,

“Mum creates a home with love” that’s all

We were thinking when we asked her to choose

A colour for her kitchen so she could use

Some old stuff, some new – to keep the cost down.

We said we’d get Dulux and not just Crown.

And the last green tone in that kitchen space?

I’m rather jealous – just look at my face!

Sunshine and a Natural Botox

I forgot to get my washing in last night.

Today, when I look out, the garden has transformed from one that was magically enhanced by the scalpel of sunlight that drew a vivid sparkle across its features. Now it is grey with tiredness, ugly and unkempt; the light has grown dim, fogged with a creeping sense of inattention and decay.

This afternoon, if it stays dry, I will inject some Springtime hope.

Leaving their Mark

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