Brown Eyes

Brown Eyes ode

The baker said, I want brown.

Sin-steeped chocolate sauce,

Caramel crusty and burnt,

Cashew roasted to an infinite dark.

The painter said,

I want brown.

Raw umber, tempered

With a downy fawn and spiked

With shots of bronze.

The chef said,

I want brown.

The goo off the overdone sausage,

The edge from the cinnamon stick,

The fat from the greased

Old turkey.

The farmer said,

I want brown.

Early light glinting off the wheat

The patch between the calf’s little horns

Bushels ripe in silent wait

And twilight.

Then you opened your eyes

And all fell silent.

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Pramod Shankar

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shootitifitrhymes.blogspot.comCurious about almost everything; a little moody; cherishes sensitive, open-minded people who believe in growth and giving; politely stays away from others. Loves to create new things and ideas, and to nurture old ones.
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2 Comments on "Brown Eyes"

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Reyvrex Questor Reyes

Brown is the color of the soil without impurities. But is soil not a conglomeration of everything? Brown makes one think of the deep message. Nice poem.

Chandrama Deshmukh

Wow. This one is my favorite 🙂 …and one of your best.
Free-flowing and straight from (and to) the heart.
@Pramod_Shankar please give us a pleasure to read more of your verses.


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