Image found at andyzart.com
The green grass, so long and wispy, got you
Dancing, you were chirping in oil paints.
Your heart was content. When I passed you by,
Bering the Straits with swimmers confusion,
Mixing you with another pallet lifter.
So wrong was my song, but you didn’t mind.
You told me a tale in grasshopper lines.
Forgetful mind recall the splashes of its’ splendor.
Satire and irony is the drab corn that I carry
To eat all through this hoary frost.
Why not come and chat with me, we can revel in your colors?
I have preserved a few, the farmer’s market colors,
Which I can and freeze for the winter and I will share with you.
But still I bemoan this dearth of color.
That night you chirped “Why bother with twitter?”
I tweeted “but how will I find you?”
I went on my way and continued my toil.
Now winter is here and this ant has no color,
I find myself dying of hunger,
While I can see Grasshopper distributing color,
Each day from the canvases he collected last summer.
Now I know:
IT IS BEST TO PREPARE FOR THE DAYS OF NECESSITY.