Come here my beloved and color my day
And sweep those dusty old cobwebs away —
Applying a hand both generous and bold,
Revive this drab morning with blue, red and gold,
Allowing your palette to shimmer and sway
Revealing a purple and orange at play —
And whence hope is felt but rarely is seen
I ask you beloved do show me some green —
But never beloved, never more grey
For it speaks only of age and of death and decay.
LIsa Manning
Gloucester




