I was a fashionable interior decorator, beautifying comfortable, loved homes;
And selecting wall paints, fabrics and furniture, like the sparkle of gemstones.

I worked closely with eager owners, for their wildest, dream homes to occur,
Like clusters of wild, blooming daisies, which upon one color, seem to concur.

I chose rugs for the floor, and artwork for walls, as per proud owners' wishes,
Like wistful, nostalgic, climbing wisteria, so eager to feel sunny, golden riches.

Fresh, fruitful days of flowering springtime, brought favored friends outdoors,
Like red and green butterflies from cocoons, or flaming comets, in due course.

Family and I forayed into the far future, a fuzzy fuchsia that none can foresee,
Like redbirds revisiting southern skies, are reviving summertime's lush story.

I lived in the house of quiet elegance, lent to it by successive, stately seasons,
Like a still elegance of purple flowers, when oozing heady, fragrant secretions.

Sleek ravens screamed at sapphire skies, on my sage street of sultriest June,
Where at night trees danced in darkness, like pretty ballerinas without a tune.

Neighbors nestled on porches and napped, of a Saturday, for noon dreaming,
As all were struggling with the heat, save willows beside the lake, streaming.

Summer was in crested eagle's golden eye, that darkly flew on cobalt up high,
As azure skies darken in an eclipse of July, before a dreamy day has gone by.

And birds in leafy, ripe mulberry trees, sang all the favored songs just for me,
That flowed in windows on the wind, from the golden, winding lanes, set free.

As I love to watch a pastel sunrise, I was awake at misty dawn one fine day;
And my dewy blooms had faded to peach, similar to the sky's hued bouquet!

In addition to this strange sight, everything else also donned these false hues,
Like one ready, willing and eager to know, yet at the start, getting false news!

All now seemed in empathy with fluid skies, showing odd affinity with the sun,
Like one who sheds tears for another's heartache, when nothing can be done.

Yellow, prime noon saw a sun beaming, as flowers glowed and people smiled,
Like rich, multicolored, hopeful rainbows, after all-pervading sunbeams styled!

Nature was beautiful at sunset, you bet, as all was shaded an orangey purple;
Then opulent, starry night, lent tints of black and white, a day gone full circle.

The sky causes many encounters with beauty, as it colors our world, it seems.
Once gold sun is in its presence, until leaving a memory, in pale moonbeams!