An Ode to Spring

       When Red burst on the scene, it was all he could do to keep from lording it over the others.  It wasn't entirely his fault; he could not help a perfectly timely arrival.  White had already arrived, indeed she was the first to arrive.  But it was readily agreed that she was far too showy and demur.  Too stately for her own good, Red thought.  The only reason why she held her place was only because she arrived first, and no other reason.  Everyone was simply too glad of her presence to notice her lack of vibrance, for she made the barrenness seem all at once more bearable.  

       Purple came next, and he wasn’t half bad.  He dressed well enough, Red gave him that, taking careful pains, and going so far as to borrow a bit from Yellow (not a bad chap, Yellow, always happy to share a bit with any of the lot).  Most took well to Purple, to the sheer solidity of him, if nothing else.  After all, when one has only experienced White, Purple adds a real robustness that cannot help but be appreciated.
            A none-to-careful glance about heralded Blue’s arrival, around whose hemlines skipped Pink.  That’s how it was with the two sisters, fraternal twins by birth—so different, and yet not much could separate the one from the other.  Blue, the just older sister, carried herself stately and with elegant grace.  Pink charmed and moved well with a happy bounce in Blue’s wake.  And all agreed the party was better for their having attended.
            Orange strode the sidelines, a slight, fierce thing.  Too thin by far, and yet his disposition had a cheering element to it.  Not like Yellow, who had arrived some time before, but took his time winding through the guests, carefully greeting all.  There really was no one like Yellow for cheering and all-around jolliness.  Beaming a mellow brightness, Yellow came in at the fashionable time, enhancing gently with his joy.  One could not stay down long around Yellow, and he left only good in his wake, before he slowly slipped away.
            But Yellow was not Red, as anyone would note.  And it was Red that eclipsed all of them; it was Red none could do without.  Stately and bold, he pranced in last, almost too late, yet his arrival never felt less than perfect.  He wore out the party until the end, bringing with him laughter and tales and warmth that made for a good time had by all.  He never left until the last guest had departed.  Indeed, a host could always count on Red.  There was nothing like him, and he knew it.  But that was alright.  For though he might be bold as brass, even the smallest amount of him went the longest way; and it was impossible to do without him.  That was quite enough for Red.

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