White is the color of purity,
Worn at weddings and religious rites,
But, with brides, that’s not a surety,
If they’ve succumbed to certain delights.


White is the absence of color, too,
As we will find on hospital beds;
Or resulting from what bleach can do,
To colors like yellows, blues and reds.


White is the color of winter scenes,
When the world is all covered with snow,
With the exception of evergreens,
Trees, on which greens continue to show.


White is the color of surrender,
When the losing force waves the white flag;
And the victors go on a bender,
While beaten down losers’ spirits sag.


White is the color of milk, as well,
At least when it first comes from a cow.
But chocolate milk also tastes swell,
And strawberry is popular now.


White is the pallor of someone ill;
Or of people who avoid the sun.
White is the top of a snowcapped hill,
In the winter, used as a ski run.


White is a newspaper, without print,
Should the day come when there is no news.
Of war and terrorists, not a hint,
A day when no one will sing the blues.


White refers to the Caucasian race,
The majority in this nation.
To Native Americans, “paleface”,
To Blacks, “honky” is the appelation.


About white, there’s likely more to write,
But I think that I have covered most.
Now I think I’ll go and grab a bite -
A gob of jam on my whole wheat toast.


 

© By RickMack (Rmrickmack@aol.com)

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Watch these pages for more poems by RickMack.
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My Views

Rainbows In Your Dream

Danny's Pony

The Best Christmas

A Blue Ridge Winter's Morn

Bopper Finds A Lady Friend

If I Were A Queen

White

Death Of A Fireman



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