Happiness Is A Box Of Crayons

When I was younger, my dad used to get me a new box of crayons for Christmas every year. Crayola crayons, to be specific. This is important if you've ever fallen victim to pretty much any other crayon. We would bond over the magic of a new box, all fresh tips and waxy wonderfulness just waiting to be put to paper. In an effort to start on one of my birthday goals, I thought I'd use crayons as inspiration for a poem. I wasn't sure I wanted to share it on my blog, but I was plum out of inspiration for today's post so here we are. 

A Nod to Crayons

There's a lot you can learn

From a box of crayons;

Like life isn't made up of black and white,

But rather rainbow hues of gray

Where the dull get sharp,

Or fear getting replaced.

And all that glitters isn't gold

But rather shades of dandelion.

The substance may be cotton white,

Blowing through the wind like tumbleweed.

Or it might be the truest goldenrod,

Blooming against adversity in timberwolf crevices,

Sinking its roots into sepia soil.

May courage ring

Through my purple mountains' majesty

That I may soar through the denim sky

And be famous for just a blink.

I'll be tickled pink

Living periwinkle dreams

Until the robin's egg hatches

And I am left with just a shell.

I'll be forest green with envy

My scarlet cheeks burning,

My purple heart yearning

Until tangerine skies settle

My bittersweet dreams. 

I will send my canary

Into the wild blue yonder.

Should it return from the copper sun,

I will catch salmon in the 

Wild sea foam

And I will have my

Happy ever after.