Dear blue, all around.

Like the sky,

On the verge of tears.

Mourning blue,

Morning hue.

Inks into memory.

The cold blue hue.

Mind blank.

Blanched papers –

Blot like blue.

Perspectives,

Pure Blue.

They fill the canvas-

And fail to leave.

So I paint it with white, black, orange.

Until it became the sky.

                                                                 ~ Tania Alphonsa George

                                                                    Kollam, India