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Mill
at St. Nicholas Les Arra by Jean Baptiste Corot
Slipping softly away through meadow and glen
Away, away to where we were children again.
I don't remember all was this green.
Every where we look it's the same scene.
From yellow to blue to muted and fantastic bright,
The world is alive with green, shadowed and light.
I'll lead this color like a pet on a leash from outside,
In doors to where it will reside as my pride,
Paint for walls a pale so pale is it soft moss?
Pick up a pillow of chartreuse and it is boss.
For window on sun room play with green hue,
Outdoors didn't stop at back door but went through.
If the salad on the table is just as green,
We'll give it a place of highest esteem.
How can we be blue moody and mean,
When all our world is colored green? |
