BOYZENBERRY TOAST

BOYSENBERRY TOAST

As the rain falls down in Crimson sheets,

It stains the ground in a Blush colored hue.

The puddles amass in a sticky array,

Death must be coming to the man in the moon.

His tears are falling like Sangria wine,

The color camouflages the Cardinal bird.

What will the morning bring, I wonder,

When Blood has covered the entire earth?

Cover your wounds you celestial host,

Stanch the flow from your Mulberry holes.

The blood that you spill,

Is like razor sharp quills,

Soon we’ll all be Boysenberry toast.

As morning comes, the rain still pours,

The clouds overhead are like a Burgundy bruise.

The rivers overflow with Vermilion waves,

While Rose is the color of the flooded sand dunes.

No one is about on this Carmine morn,

With Ruby colored shards like daggers falling.

I hope and pray this is all a dream,

And I awake before the Red death comes calling.

Cover your wounds you celestial host,

Stanch the flow from your Mulberry holes.

The blood that you spill,

Is like razor sharp quills,

Soon we’ll all be Boysenberry toast.