Not a poem as such, but I like it. By Ervin Lázár, renowned children's author. First saw it here. Original.
Once two spots of paint – one blue and the other yellow – fell beside each other on a piece of paper. Right next to each other, with their sides touching.
“Excuse me, could you move a little further?” said Blue, irritated.
“Would you mind moving yourself?” replied Yellow. “And anyway, you could have at least said hello or something.”
With this she was prepared to back away, since Blue was anyway a far too common colour to be bothering with, if only it wasn't so hard for spots of paint to move.
“Me greet you? A Yellow?” grunted Blue disdainfully, and he would have surely pouted his lips if he had any.
“You're not trying to suggest I should have greeted you first?”
“I'm suggesting exactly that. In case you haven't noticed, I am Blue!”
“Allow me to laugh!” said Yellow in a sarcastic voice. “Why, you're the most common colour in the whole world, one cannot even mention the two of us in the same breath... and anyway, stop elbowing me.”
“First things first, you're elbowing me; secondly, I am the one who paints the sky, the sea, the waters; the prettiest flowers are blue, and blue eyes are also the prettiest. Could you imagine a girl with yellow eyes.. urgh.. or yellow water! Anyway, how do you even dare to speak in my presence?”
“I always knew you were very common, but this much! What a joke! Blue flowers the prettiest? Have you ever seen a primrose? Or a forest in autumn? You know what your problem is? You're too greedy. You paint the whole sky, the whole sea, everything is blue.. bo-ring! Me, I've got style, I know when to hold back, so I never become dull... I beg your pardon, but you really are becoming insolent, this is too much, you're practically climbing into me.. As I was saying, I hide in shades, I appear in little specks. And anyway, I am from the Ochre family, don't you know.
“Ochre? Is this your big boast? So you have a family name do you? Well, my ancestors are a much finer breed than your lot. They would never jostle like you, for instance. For your information, I am an Ultramarine.”
“Pah!” so started Yellow's dramatic reply, but by then the two colours had long mixed, and she couldn't finish her sentence, since the boy from whose brush they fell saw them and said:
“What a pretty spot of green!”
