By Dominique Webb
Blood is red for vibrant,
Beating and in time,
Rhythmical with vitality,
Resounding in spark and shine.
Zestfulness depends on your blood,
Having it and living by its pump,
With transports plasma around the body,
To clot when cuts scare and could stump.
The zeal we get from red blood cells,
Save from Anemia, Malaria and Sickle cell disease,
And when too many white blood cells accumulate,
Leukaemia damages our tissues, the sleaze.
The heart is rightly denoted,
As the centre from which emanates love,
The essence of the person,
The call that you shouldn’t be above.
The colour red is spritely,
Vibrates energy and drive,
A dynamism which supersedes,
The dirge that sometimes thrives.
When you see an icon,
A symbol, logo or picture,
That’s covered in the colour red,
Just remember its derivation structure.
You could say that blood was made red,
By god, coincidence or accident,
But I think that red is the colour of blood,
The true precedent and determinant.