Colour-Blind

For a man who sees everything
As brown and grey
It must be quite odd to have a woman
Who sees a world full of colours

The difference between burnt sienna
And the burnt amber
The cobalt and the ultramarine
To the turquoise-aquamarine

But what would it all be to a man
Who's vision is all monochrome
Who's poem is one he reads alone
Who's heart is nothing but forlorn

His world of monochromes
What use to him is a rainbow
Meaning of bright blue eyes
Or rosy pink lips

What hue is the sky?
And many million shades of green.
Does gold tempt him?
Or blood disgust him?

What shade is his envy?
How dark is his temper?
How dull is a moment?
How sparkling is his wine?

I could never tell for I only saw him
As perfect as it would get
Through my rose tinted glasses
Or so they said

My lover of monochromes
Our love story of monotones