The woman scrolls her usual scroll, not looking for anything in particular....then she sees it - not perpendicular.
Ethereal,
Quintessential.

Moons and stars and coloured gems all
glinting in the afternoon light.
The woman afixes them to her curtain rail
The girl gasps - her eyes wide.
Rainbows danced across the walls, a shifting, sparkling tide.

She breathes. She is delighted.
It's such a little thing, she knows,
The girl and I -
She is me and I am She.
The girl did not die in the fire

She stepped out, glazed with gold.
She still gasps at rainbows on the wall—
proof that wonder never grows old.

●

Last night I'd dreamed
That my hair dye
Ran away from me,
Faster than Road Runner
From Wile E. Coyote
I stopped and froze -
my face aghast
A boring old brunette
I was once again,
A sad little ghost
Of my deep blue past

Self-expression is the key
To me being me
With my rainbow locks,
And my funky socks
If I can't have magical
My Little Pony hair,
Then what would I be?!

I used to be so monochrome
No makeup
"Just an ugly betty" I'd donned
No cute and fun hues
On her colour palette,
Just more shades of grey
That faded to black -
Betty was always
The habit rabbit

At first I said
I wanted pink hair -
But lots of "fun" women
Have pink hair,
So I'd told my stylist
I wanted green
But she knew colour theory
Would muddy its sheen

I thought long,
I thought hard
And then -
A spark
Orange would certainly
Be a light in the dark!

Who said
I couldn't be a traffic cone?
Or a carrot Bugs Bunny
Munches on?  

No yellow-bellied lizard here,
Brown study Betty must take
Her books elsewhere
Scootaloo is tickled pink -
And to think,
She used to believe
That she couldn't gleam!

●