I once met a man with the gift of no sight,
I pondered and asked him what colours were like.
He replied with a grin, “Now let me begin:
The depth of the ocean is where turquoise is hid.
The warmth of the sun on a hot summer day,
Is where our dear orange comes out to play.
The tickle of sand between your ten toes,
That is where the mischievous tan ebbs and flows
The boats that are cradled upon ocean crests,
Are the vessels where grey chooses to rest.
The sharp taste of juices from sweet, sour limes
That is where green dances inside my mind.”
And he chuckled and laughed, as he walked away,
As if people have asked him this question each day.
