Blue beckons me to believe in bliss
It permeates through my blue veins
And cools me from the inside out

Bleakness is blue-less; Melancholy is blue-less
Authentic blue is soft and subtle and tranquilizes the senses
Blue is stillness
Sweet. Soundless stillness.

I wade in the watery wake of Clearwater Beach
I permit the sand and miniscule blue shells
To melt mercilessly between my toes
Like scraping through blue Jell-o,
I wiggle my feet between the minerals with the hope
To stroke the navy-blue clay on the earth’s floor
The breezy blue tropical aroma of this blue invades my vulnerable nostrils
And chills my body thermostat on the well-mannered waters
As I drift into a euphoria with loose blue lips.

This motionless float on the sandbar’s waves
This roasting sensation of temperate sun
This isolation that swallows me whole
Leaves me breathless and a tad blue in complexion.

Blue blinds every morsel of soil with its cobalt-blue skies
It bounces and bleeds into snow cones
And bursts tiny tints into balloons
That bends into the boundless horizon
After the blue sky buries sheepishly;
Under the security of the blue sea.

Blue leaves me speechless
Because it does not need to boast in sapphires,
Or belie in blue breath-wash
Or bullyrag in bluebells
Blue just breathes in sea salt
And begins each step with a sensible stride.

Life should be blue:
Level-headed blueberry blue;
go-with-the-flow Levi jeans blue;
peaceful babbling brooks blue
The universe gets too intoxicated
with all the pandemonium
And forgets,
to be
simply
blue.