Okay, still a work in progress but here's part one.

[artincircles]

This triad needs spark, apples, and moving hands.
Thoughts in a cauldron and white noise eternal
Constant flame, unchallenging three.
Blue and stagnant, less prime, less rare.
Void, devious furors lost their bravery on the train.
I sing to old challenges, red fires, and dimples.
I seek you amongst these unmoving fingers
I seek you as the drought tics its rhythm
One, two, three... One, two, three...
In-between there is silence and quaint ideas
Burning slow and blue...

And devious they were...
Waving as the train wove goodbye
As seconds were prime numbers
Bare, silent and me.
As sounds and steps were one
and ideas colourblind and multicoloured
Black, green, red
Blue.