The doors of the emporium.

Go and open the butterscotch door, 

Possibly, you will spot dandelion canaries sweetly singing on a branch and medallion-coloured bumble bees buzzing.


Go and open the fuchsia door,

You will spot taffy flamingos chattering, a salmon lake, or magical roses

 dancing through the wind currents.


Go and open the lavender door,

Maybe you’ll see lilac amethyst shards shining, Iris orchids climbing 

up trees, or your creativity sparking like flint,


Open the marigold door, 

You’ll spot stripped, marmalade tigers roaring or a sea of 

bronze cider bubbling.


Go and peer into the azure door,

Possibly, you’ll gaze upon aegean peacocks striding on the magical terrain,

Sapphires beauty striking tourists, or your settling calmness.


Go and open the chartreuse door, 

Enthusiastic parakeets hopping to one another and seaweed flowing 

Along the river bank.


Open the dove door,

You will see grains of ash against the grassy turf, the rising plumes of smoke 

In the porpoise sky or the anxiety in your stomach.


Stare into the onyx door,

Maybe you’ll see the conspiracies of ravens clawing onto the tan fence,

A lonely, midnight chunk of obsidian.


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