The Colour Of Love

They asked me what colour is love and I thought of you.
Love is red. Definitely red
The rush of blood through my veins at the call of your name
The colour of my lipstick on your collar
The flush on my cheeks when I think of yesterday
Now my most prized memory.

It is the colour of a rose
Delicately placed on the nightstand before you leave for work
And the colour of the sky as we sit on the porch
Drinking coffee and enjoying the breeze.

“But love is green.” They said.
It dances like trees when motivated.
It grows like a plant when watered.
It spreads like lawn when tended to.
It is young and free and lively.

I thought again.
The blue of your eyes and the blue of my lips
As I experience my first winter
And you hold me to keep me warm.
The blue of the ocean on the day we took the kids to the beach
For the first time
The colour of the cloud sprinkled sky
Painted by the yellow of the sun

The yellow of the sun and the yellow of our souls when smiling
Surely that is love
The brown of the dirt where we planted that tree in the front yard
Surely that is love
The purple I feel every time you look at me and make me your queen.
Surely that is love.
The grey of the evenings when we read the newspaper together

And I knew the answer.
It was there all along.
It was obvious and clear.
Love isn’t red or blue or brown.
Love has no hue except the colour of your skin.
Love has no shade like the paint of your words that uplift my heart.
Love has no tone except the colour in your heart when
You said “I love you.” to me for the first time.
The colour of love is unprintable and nothing looks more beautiful.
Than that hue called love
Spread across the reality of what we have
Fashioned so deeply yet so neatly in your face.
The colour of love is you.
All that you are and all that we are
Is that colour called love.