Soft is the white
like feathers of an angel
wings spread open wide
Warm is the white
like the glow of a fireplace
flames casting light
Home is the white
like the arms of my love
embracing me at night
Hope is the white
like the doves of peace
taking flight
Laughter is the white
like brown chocolate stains
on linen soft and bright
Bliss is the white
like the body of a lover
moving with delight
Bed
Here the soldier rests
Here the poet writes
Here the artist dreams
Here the wounded heals
Here the lover feels
Should you abandon that white
don’t leave it waiting, aching, lonely
burn it to ashes, black not white.
Yaku 