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.