Oh what is the hue?
The right shade of blue
To color the new morning sky
And the green for the trees
But, what color’s the breeze?
How does one paint but a sigh?
I’d paint the clouds white
The sun yellow and bright
As it kisses the things that I see
Blue and green in a flash
I’d catch the wave’s crash
Before it slips back to the sea
The sunrise of red
Greets the new day ahead
And purple I’d paint the night sky
A day bright and warm
Or a dark, angry storm
The brushstrokes appear to my eye
And, oh such a pity
When I picture a city
The color I think of is grey
But beneath a green tree
Or beside the blue sea
My troubles are painted away
Mark A. Sautter is a geologist and poet living in Fort Myers, Florida.
Featured Image: “Painter in His Studio” by Francois Boucher (1703-1770)
Beautiful poem.
Lovely verse!
Lovely contrast. Isn’t that how we think of cities: gray!