A palette of words

She asked me to paint a picture with words; then complained that what I had painted was colourless; all black and white. Of course, I thought, words are usually black on a white background; but I suppose to most people painting a picture means using the three basic colours on their palette.

Then I recalled what I was taught at school - each of the colours in the rainbow can be made by mixing together two or all of the three.

So, must I write about red? Stop lights, danger, fire and flame; that silk scarf you wore when you came to tell me you were leaving.

Blue skies, I remember; domed over the spot where first we met; then met again and again, so as not ever to be apart.

Yellowed is the page on which is written the contract we made to stay together until death should take our final breath away.

So you can see why, quite often, my writing is colourless. My palette of colours being locked away with my memories.

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