Bleach the colours near away.
Then delight in misty grey.
Remove the hectic startling hues,
The crassly crimsons, blatant blues,
Yelling yellows and grosser greens,
That dazzle and drown the passing scenes.
The advertisers may delight
In brilliance matched with startling white.
They aim it seems, to hurt our eyes;
Rainbow temptation in disguise.
'Buy me!' 'Taste me!' Aren't I pretty!',
Emblazoned over every city.
Yet, pause awhile, and look on grey;
The colour to steal your stress away.
See, above, a view of life
Devoid of all that strident stuff.
Dive in and mingle with the clouds;
Forget those colour-conscious crowds.
Do you need blue? Then look above;
Clouds tinged like the feathers of a dove.
Do you need green? The distant trees,
Wreathed in mist, are sure to please.
Purple, merging into mauve,
Like an artistic treasure-trove.
Whites that lean towards the cream;
A hidden sun, with a subtle gleam.
Rocks that, somehow, have the knack
Of being black, yet not quite black.
Buildings, softened by a brush
That wont accept life's modern rush;
Buildings unpeopled and serene;
Nothing sordid, brutal, mean.
Unknown artist, I applaud you,
Every accolade I accord you.
You have gentled all my day
With that lovely colour, grey.