Colors of Words

A poem celebrating the joy of expression and the beauty found in language's complexities.

This poem is part of the NaPoWriMo 2025 challenge to write a poem a day in April. This is the prompt for April 10.

Yesterday, we looked at a poem that used sound in a very particular way, to create a slow and mysterious feeling. Mark Bibbins’ poem, “At the End of the Endless Decade,” uses sound very differently, with less eerieness and more wordplay. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that, like Bibbins’, uses alliteration and punning. See if you can’t work in references to at least one word you have trouble spelling, and one that you’ve never quite been able to perfectly remember the meaning of.

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In my garden of garbled greens,  
where thoughts bloom like wildflowers,
I plant “fuchsia,”  
a hue and a plant;
one that calls the hummers,
hangs heavy in the air,  
taunting tongues with its tricky twist,  
a vivid vibrance that vexes,  
like a riddle wrapped in pendulous petals.

(Why did the color stay home?
I muse, moments spent in silliness,  
Because it didn’t want to risk a run-in  
with the wild world of wobbly watercolors!
and my giggles glide through the garden,  
where whimsy weaves its way  
into the fabric of folly.)

Sipping on sunlight,  
I sip on syllables,  
searching for 
the secret of abnegation,
a word whose definition waltzes 
just beyond  
the edge of my recollection,  
its meaning muddled, a memory  
marooned on the shores of my mind.

Here, in this patch of playful paradox,  
I find freedom in the dance of language,  
the way words can wade through  
waters of uncertainty,  
painting the mundane with magic,  
as I embrace the chaos of expression,  
a riot of color,  
a kaleidoscope of confusion.

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