The Shades and the Brush

Packed was I in a small crystal clear bottle, I was its identity

The blue bottle, the red one or the green goblet

Though when around you all time, I am not given fame

My fame comes with my name

But where is my name?

The flower is adored for its vibrant delicacy

The pretty butterfly for its colorful flutter

The sky for its iridescent ambit

The rainbow for its seven 'me'

Sometimes I wonder if it's me

Or the bodies carrying me

Who is adored more ?

Fuddles me to the core !

One day sitting inside a tiny tube

I was resting inside the dark lube

Suddenly someone pressed me

Scuffled me

Strangled me

Tussled I, came out with a heavy breath

Breathing freely I was at ease

A slender stick with soft fiber

fondled me

A little shy I was at such an endearing gesture

Coaxing me gently

I felt the quiver

I mingled in him in a trice

like the way you gulp a mango slice

No longer I was me, captivated in a color tube

here I was free and liberated

with the slender brush

Oh sorry! a colorful brush

embarked on an advent to a majestic portrait

I was now a colored brush brushing along the shades of me

on a white canvas 

leaving behind my indelible imprints.

Öbrìgadò!
JJJ