The chameleon crept to where he resides.
He hides in a crack in the wall,
The place his identity is unalibied
And his true colors are recalled.
When his surroundings are dull and gray,
He makes for himself, a rose colored day.
I sat on the step with my fears inside,
Concealing my feelings from you.
I thought I could keep them unamplified
But my tears exposed them to view.
My vision was cloudy, my cloudy skies gray.
I wished I could make it a rose-colored day.
The cat strolled up for his morning meal
And surveying his dish surmised,
“I thought today was chicken day
But I see it’s of fish comprised
And the bowl holds water instead of wine.”
But contented he purred as he began to dine.
After eating he washed, as the sun gave rise.
He said, “My friend, this is how you do.
Look at the day through slitted eyes.
Make a rose-colored day when you feel blue.
Give what you can and enjoy what you get.
Take what is given. Don’t fret about it.”
“Looking through eyes which are narrowed to slits
Gray sky takes on a rosy hue.
You can filter out all the unhappy bits.
…And by the way, the fish was good, too!”
With one last “Meow!” the cat strolled away.
Leaving the secret of a rose colored day.
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