The green is in the meadow and the blue is in the sky, <br />And all of Nature's artists have their colors handy by; <br />With a few days bright with sunshine and a few nights free from frost <br />They will start to splash their colors quite regardless of the cost. <br />There's an artist waiting ready at each bleak and dismal spot <br />To paint the flashing tulip or the meek forget-me-not. <br /> <br />May is lurking in the distance and her lap is filled with flowers, <br />And the choicest of her blossoms very shortly will be ours. <br />There is not a lane so dreary or a field so dark with gloom <br />But that soon will be resplendent with its little touch of bloom. <br />There's an artist keen and eager to make beautiful each scene <br />And remove with colors gorgeous every trace of what has been. <br /> <br />Oh, the world is now in mourning; round about us all are spread <br />The ruins and the symbols of the winter that is dead. <br />But the bleak and barren picture very shortly now will pass, <br />For the halls of life are ready for their velvet rugs of grass; <br />And the painters now are waiting with their magic to replace <br />This dullness with a beauty that no mortal hand can trace. <br /> <br />The green is in the meadow and the blue is in the sky; <br />The chill of death is passing, life will shortly greet the eye. <br />We shall revel soon in colors only Nature's artists make <br />And the humblest plant that's sleeping unto beauty shall awake. <br />For there's not a leaf forgotten, not a twig neglected there, <br />And the tiniest of pansies shall the royal purple wear.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-ready-artists/
