The pink on your cheek
Tell me that you are not weak
But may be the cold wind had it beat*
Or, much of roaming* in the heat.
Your brown iris on the white
Say you are to win every fight
And enjoy the rainbow of joy so light
When your enemies bid you goodnight*.
The blue of your mood
Speak that you are saddened under your hood*
May be a problem remains unsolved*
Or, a feat*, you are yet not involved.
What your face does not show
Is the silver of your wisdom and its glow
The effect of the green-eyed monster's last scream
When you killed it, last night, in your dream.
Despite all physical and mental colour mess*
I like you for your character so very colourless
You do not have tones and shades*
Different for me, the men and the maids.