I can't help playing with the lighting 😅.

This one spurted out from "The mallow" poem/arrangement you would find if you navigate through down the pages/chapters.
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PS: *a few days later* yeah, the words didn't seem to like just settling for the others already out there, lol. So here's what came from their playing, 😁.
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~♡~

These mallow flowers

With the light that over them showers

They would wondrously glow brighter

In vibrant colour making them look better

And depending on the viewing angle

They seem to change though it's subtle

By the way they would reflect the light

Going through the myriad shades of white

Seeming to not want yet to settle down

As the trunk absorbing all except brown

~¤~

Because white light is a kaleidoscope of all colours

And what we see is just a projection by others

Of whatever they don't want to absorb

In the wavelength of white light's vibe

So for these mallow flowers I'd say

That maybe they just like to play

In the way white light lets them shine

Getting them to look all mighty fine

Instead of how dull they would look

Just like every time the dark overtook

~♡~