A Romantic’s View
Gold is the colour of my true love’s hair
As she raises up her glass,
And the candle shines through the red wine’s glow
And the evenings gently pass.
Green is the colour of my true love’s eyes,
Eyes that I can’t resist,
They glow through the smoke of her cigarette
Like jade through the morning mist.
A Realist’s View
Red is the colour of a June blossomed rose
When plucked from its briar’s posy-
But Red is the colour of my true love’s nose
When she been at the Rouge or Rosé.
Yellow is the colour of the drawing sun
That creeps where the frost still lingers,
But yellow is the colour of my true love’s thumb
And brown is the colour of her fingers.
By Ronnie Barker
