teacups and cinnamon

The Truth About the Blues The Blues are sad, they say--but I deny Their lie! The azure sky; the saphir sea; The beryl, rippling brook--do they imply A state of darkly stained melancholy? Just gaze into a lake's clean cobalt glass Of boundless shades in joyous, unpained hues No other Earthly hue can Blue surpass, It sky and sea and soil--and us--will fuse...