Red is The colour Of my passion My love for life The deep smell of love, Lust and living Of sex and sensuality Roses resting in a vase Love's loyal messengers Tiny soldiers standing sharp On each stem The sweet scent that fills the room Soft petals on my skin Committed politics A sense of struggle, rebellion A fire with its flames crackling Glowing, shooting long tentacles Into the night Berets out there, searching For a better world Blood flowing Through my veins Haemoglobin, red blood cells Oxygen Needles, chemotherapy, toxins No, medicine, healing And regeneration A good bottle of wine Full-bodied, the aroma of burgundy Dribbling down my lover's lips As he sits attentive To my fears, my longing For another time Then there are the nails- My fingers, and toes Shining lips Painted Berry, Berry A bit frivolous perhaps Or simply another type of red That reminds me to listen To my heart My passion The soft touch of my child's hand To keep the fire's embers Glowing. Jennifer Keck, February 2001