A world without color is a dreary world at best,
For I wouldn’t see the red dragons on Grandma’s vest,
I wouldn’t see the brown ochre of a bird’s new nest,
And I wouldn’t see purple orchids planted abreast.
A world without color is a world I couldn’t bear,
For I’d miss reading books in my tattered, lemon chair,
I’d miss the colorful ribbons that hold back my hair,
And I’d miss biting into a fresh green Anjou pear.
In a world devoid of color, I’d wish for the scene
Of sparkling blue water cascading through a ravine;
For a world without yellow, red, blue, or even green,
Would be the emptiest, saddest world I’d ever seen.