Paper and Ink

Azur, navy… no, cobalt the sky

Cyan the sounding sea.

An emerald forest

A forest meadow

A kelly green lime tree.

Daffodils lunge

At butterscotch suns

Canary gold flies free,

Into dawn’s bloody gushing

Into dusk’s crimson flushing

Or to the pale, rosy-blush of she.

But it’s only a ruse,

The colors I use

Are always black on white.

Yet they mix in a way

That needn’t turn gray

In the picture that you see.