WHAT of all the colours shall I bring you for your fairing, <br />Fit to lay your fingers on, fine enough for you ?– <br />Yellow for the ripened rye, white for ladies' wearing, <br />Red for briar-roses, or the skies' own blue ? <br /> <br />Nay, for spring has touched the elm, spring has found the willow, <br />Winds that call the swallow home sway the boughs apart; <br />Green shall all my curtains be, green shall be my pillow, <br />Green I'll wear within my hair, and green upon my heart.<br /><br />Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-green-month/
