Good Advice on the Road to Life
Seems it was not long ago, not that she gives a whit,
Doris Gladiola could be noticed just a bit.
So it does continue even to this very day
that our self-styled Doris lets her colors out to play.
Maybe fashion took a U-turn somewhere in her teens.
Then, she got a taste of wearing paisley on her jeans.
Maybe Doris found it hard to express in talking
her own thoughts, so she wore them on her clothes while walking.
Her style does suit just herself– happily outrageous,
repertoire never seen in fashion-conscious pages.
Magenta with tones of orange is something she might choose;
bright lime green with apple red does quite light her fuse.
Rainbow psychedelic chakra, purple and chartreuse.
In her home and in her yard, wild colors are in use.
But when Doris walks to town folks see the clothes she wears.
They may talk about her look, but nearly no one dares
to try out her lively-wear, that bewitching style.
They seek calmness in their clothes, Doris G., meanwhile,
wears iridescent lily pads right on her nightgown,
swearing that the wildest print helps her to lay-me-down.
She picks her colors with such care, never shades of gray.
Warm, enticing, vibrant sights, so happy she will stay.
People near and some from far need to wear sunglasses,
eye-defying, blazing bright, blinding as she passes.
They may call out praises, shout out words of odd delight.
Some nearby may even say their eyeballs took a fright.
None have ever ere before encountered such hoopla.
And so goes the tale of Doris Gladi-ooo-la-la.