Puce

The rainbow was etched across the sky’s canvas,

The sky touching hills had been witness to the Supreme’s painting skills,

The rich brown Earth was enjoying its union with the lush green Grass,

 After a torrential monsoon.

The river nearby flowed with all its strength,

Nearly colourless, but still so beautiful with some pervading shades,

 The Puce shaded flowers had bloomed in all their glory,

They were the finishing touch given by the Almighty,

To his painting,

People in the hills waited for such a sight,

But to him, this was a grayscale version of nature.

Colour blindness had deprived him of the delights of enjoying this great painting.

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