Azure Palate

It is not of berry, nor ocean's spray,

But a silent hum on the tongue's soft way.

A chill, electric, where twilight sleeps,

And a forgotten dream its essence keeps.

A mineral tang, like mountains far and old,

Or a glacial melt, stark, brave, and cold.

The velvet dark of a midnight sky,

A silent, vast, and echoing sigh.

It tastes of longing, a bittersweet grace,

Of unsaid words in a timeless space.

The sapphire sorrow, a tear unshed,

And wisdom whispered from the long-since dead.

A coolness settling, a peace profound,

On senses wakened, softly unbound.

The taste of blue, a soul's deep art,

Leaves a silent echo in the heart.