A pinch of red above the green of the stem ,struck right in the brown ,
what is so beautifull about this friendship, that rose wears the crown,
The white falling out of the pouch over a clear blue behind shades of grass green,
why do these coulours stand smiling, as if to be clicked over a paper with sheen.
The green in its darkest moods, over hills stretching , adorned with chains of grey tar,
Are they friends with the silver rains, that leave them small drops to twinkle as a star,
The bright clear white sublime ice, that sleeps across the silent bed of water,
while the sun visits to polish him with a glow,
and the moon lifts him in a tide's matter,
Across a black velvet that the night drapes, are falling stars that fullfill wishes,
Wishes, of these greens, reds, browns, and whites,
to love eachother like deep divine mushes!
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