Favorite Colour

I met a child a year ago

Whose eyes would never see

She asked me with a timid smile

"What colour is a tree?"

"In summertime a tree is green;

In autumn gold and red;

In winter they are frosted white

When all their leaves are shed."

"I know the sky is blue," she said

"And silver is the sand;

And apples are the brightest red

What colour is a man?"

"Man is many colours child:

Some are yellow, some are brown

And some are black as sightlеssness

Some white as еiderdown."

She took her crayons from a box

And placed them in my glove

And said, "By mixing all of these

Comes my favourite colour--love."