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.