I am infinitely blue, a
watercolored sky, lips
of sun eager to kiss your
purple mountains that
roll away, like a billow
of smoke in the sun,
left with
Appalachian dreams,
a hollow bowl
to be filled with
wind-kisses.
The solution, a sip
of wine flavored with
a brush of October, to
'drown my sorrows', as
the old cliche goes.
And I am drowning, a
watercolored sky blissful in
soft shades of sundown,
lying on velvet-soft sheets,
paperthin the distance
between our hearts.
I am falling
in a watercolored
sky, in soft, sundown shades,
paperthin the distance
between us, as I am
Appalachian-dreaming.
And I also won't tell you what I disliked, because let's face it; by now, you probably dislike the entire poem because writer's block tends to do that to people. So, instead, I shall tell you what I liked, and hopefully you can use what I liked to create a satisfying poem that pleases you. Because really, the poet is what matters the most. 
