Sunshine

My mother loved sunlight, yellows and golds,

Yet my tastes ran to sea greens, turquoise and blues.

She told me my tastes were old-fashioned, quite cold,

Longed to dress me and surround me in brighter hues.

All through my childhood, I recall her refrain,

I would seem old and boring, of how I would 'fade'

As if this was awful, a fate worse than pain,

To remain unremarkable, safe in the shade.

I honestly can't see what it was that she did,

I still love my blues, my aquas, sea greens,

And she never forbade them, though she wished I'd get rid,

Wear primrose and daffodil, go out and be 'seen'.

She is gone now, and now, too late, I obey,

And put on her yellows, and think of her, bright as day.