Creativity is great, but plagiarism is faster

Let me burrow in your warm, autumn embrace.
Let me bathe in your sludge after a cold, spring rain.
8th color of the Rainbow, you are the
Sandal that keeps my French vanilla
Feet from going Ghirardelli
Brown.

Your hues carpet the cabinets in someone’s silent kitchen.
Your shades shade my pupils from dazzling light.
Your warm tones come barking from a
Chocolate lab scratching furiously at the
Locked wooden gate—its paint fading to
Brown.

Soaring mountains, mighty rivers, you get the glory.
But the blood of the planet flows inconspicuously.
Rich, cool soil, your touch is my prize—
I drink you in like morning coffee and
Clothe my naked body in your homely mantle of
Brown.