Teacher by Ethel Barnett DeVito
Child, though I tell you in this sunlit cove
This cup of captive sea is ever blue,
For you it may be equally as true
That it is nacre, emerald, taupe or mauve.
Youth, though I say to you our days are scrolled
In hues allied to charcoal, chalk or steel,
For you it may be equally as real
To name them carmine, coral, or yet gold.
Experience and age have tossed a bone:
The right to paint life as it seems to me,
And you may heed the colors that I see,
But never let them blind you to your own.
HT: Dana
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