Inspired from my poetry seminar exercise. This is titled Seven Shades.
On a Foggy Day, an English Mule bends down to sniff an English Rose.
The English Rose was like a Crimson Sunset at First Blush; A Fallen Angel feeling Dark and Stormy for the first time.
The Moscow Mule scowls at the English Mule when it passes.
He remembers days of Phobe Snow; an Orange Blossom in a Rolls Royce who gave him a Genoa with a pat on the head, one September Mourn.