Red’s own story

“And whenever I’m in a situation where I’m wearing the same as 600 other people and doing the same thing as 600 other people, looking back, I always found ways to make myself different, whether it be having a red lining inside of my jacket, having red shoes, it hasn’t changed.”
– Jeremy Irons

“When in doubt wear RED.”
– Bill Blass

Red’s Own Story


She is the thick

Slick enamel

That covers my nails

A pointer when tracing

Concentric circles

On bare flesh

She is the sports car

Darting along the highway

Hugging the curves

Turning an eye

She is the ripe

Succulent strawberry

Her flesh firm

Yet yielding

Tantalizing dipped in dark chocolate

Suits her best

She is the

American beauty

Long stemmed, heady fragrance

Her tight buds unfurl

Exposing her inner delicacy

We forget the thorns

She is the creamy dark war paint

On my lips

A signature

When and where

I choose to leave my mark

She is fire

On the move

Churning inside

Rising up

Beckoning me on

She is




Author: Léa

A wanderer who has found home and herself in the South of France.

12 thoughts on “Red’s own story”

  1. I love this..!
    what a passionate flow of energy you describe in Red…
    you described each as it is in living life……
    Thank you for sharing
    Take Care..

  2. Lea,

    Is this poem about you?! About the siren within us all? I very much enjoyed it. The quotes are great as well, I fall back on red myself. Love and light to you, great poetry as usual.

    1. Yes! and yes again! When I really wanted to call forth that passion I associate with the red, I even dyed my hair red a number of times. All the best to you and keep your wonderful work coming.

    1. Thank you Claudia, it is always good to get a thumbs-up from you. As for RED, your never really dressed without some, it doesn’t have to be visible as long as you know it is there! 🙂

  3. Here’s a poem of mine I wrote recently about another Red, but I think you will appreciate it:

    You burn fire red
    Against these dire threats
    And yet
    And yet
    You remember to dim the lights
    Before the fire gets too bright
    To revel in the glory of what’s left
    Tap in
    Tap in to the grace
    The grace of righteousness
    But sometimes it’s like clinging to a ledge
    Halfway up a waterfall somewhere in a jungle in South America
    Marveling at the beauty of the fern frosted by the mist
    Of the torrent
    Crashing by, terrifyingly
    But the sun shines through
    Through the eyes of the children in your mind
    With the curls of the flame
    On the sword of justice
    And you pull yourself up
    And you pull yourself clear
    Worn down and worn through
    All cares disappear
    You’re there

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