Appearing out of the bright dawn, Kevin approached, a black silhouette against the orange skyline. He walked slowly and in an unbending path, gradually getting larger as he drew near to my porch. I sat there, drinking my morning dandelion coffee and reading an aged tome that had managed to survive the centuries, “Lyrical Ballads.”

“Doug,” he said as he came near enough to put a foot on the edge ...

When autumn comes around,

I’ll suffer at every sight

Of falling golden orange leaves;

The pain will nip, as the cold will bite.

I remember falling,

Falling into the gaze of your eyes—

How orange and golden they were,

Like the setting sun’s skies.

Oh how brutal it’ll be,

To see your eyes on every tree!

I will be just like a leaf,

And fall to death with autumn grief....

looking out my window

seeing the leaves change color

the ones that used to be green

are no longer

now they’re red

and yellow

brown

and orange

a lot of orange

and as the leaves change

so do I

so do my feelings

I can quite understand it

I can’t quite tell you what I feel

but I know it’s a bit different than before

maybe I’ll go back to feeling the way I did

like the leaves will fall

but then be revi...

Fiery embers sporadically jumped across her vision, their balletic motions pirouetting into a firey ring.

With a light sting to her fingers, she turned the page. Orange-illuminated print from the book burst into color. The room became the rising sun’s lightening ablaze or the striped tiger running with vitality.

Her book’s characters jumped into action, their burning glow highlighting her surpr...

Nothing rhymes with orange

No matter how you try

And though rhyming is quite borange

You have to wonder why

A rhino with a horange

On the African savanna

A tall tree that’s adoranged

With a bushel of bananas

A house with a red doorange

Please come in, and stay a while

I’ll make you a bowl of porrange

That is sure to make you smile

You know what’s mine is yourange

So make yourself at hom...

In the heart of a small, bustling city, there was a quaint café tucked away amidst the chaos. Its name was “The Orange Brew,” a charming little spot known for its warm ambiance and delectable treats. The café’s interior was a delightful blend of rustic and modern, adorned with wooden furniture, vintage photographs, and vibrant splashes of orange.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow throu...

“The universe is neither good nor bad.” The self help podcast proclaimed. I figured I should make some use out of my hour long morning commute. “Good and bad, opportunity and complications, they just exist. What you look for and how you frame things is what you will get out of what simply exists. You have to synchronize yourself with what you need.”

I snorted. So if I look for money, I will fi...

He sits on a fence as his black, curly hair blows in the wind. Captivating. His beauty is captivating—the type of beauty that gives a boost of dopamine upon sight. Her eyes are fixated on him, but his eyes are aimed at the scenic sunset above. Its orange glow makes the brown of his skin look richer, almost golden in color. She feels as if she’s admiring a painting that a more adept person might fi...

He was careful, meticulous even, placing down the drop cloth on the floor in the sunroom, straightening the edges, palming out the wrinkles, paying close attention to the corners of the room where the fabric was starting to wriggle away, exposing a splinter of floorboard. He certainly didn’t want to have to make any more work for himself than was absolutely necessary. No drips, no mess, no additi...

I would like to see,

to dance, to run, to flee,

this horrid life I live,

in thoughts and prayers, I give,

Read the lyrics I wrote,

it’s a song dedicated to you,

couldn’t fit it on a note,

in alternate lives I pursue,

Though, I am terribly afraid,

I have forgotten your favorite color,

have you ever told your mother,

that you and I were once lovers?

Somewhere in the orange hued sky,

there is a p...