He brought me yellow, soft as morning light,
A gift that turned a simple day to bright.
No grand parade, no flourish, pomp, or praise
Just color wrapped in quiet, thoughtful ways.
He saw the joy that golden hues could spark,
The sunlit warmth I carried through the dark.
No costly gem, no rose of crimson red,
But yellow like the words he never said.
He wasn’t mine, not ever truly so,
Yet in that shade, I felt his spirit glow.
A daisy’s bloom, a ribbon’s satin gleam
He met me there, inside a yellow dream.
Such tender things the loud world overlooks
A boy, a gift, and love that wrote no books.
About the Creator
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Nice work
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
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