Red-Green Red-Brown Blue-Tongued Lizard-Boy Who Can't See the Full Rainbow Spectrum

(Trying too hard to win with that title?)

Lets break this down

Into non-alternative facts

Turn it around, countdown

Red-Green

He can see red, and he can see green

But not as you know it

He sees red cars, he sees green beans

But a red flower or fruit on a green tree

He really can't see, from a distance

Until close enough to see shape

Then pattern-recognition is his cognition

Closer again - colour kicks in

Red-Brown

He can see brown too

But somehow the grade between the two

Gets hazy, burred - no clear boundary

Which is why, when looking for brown shoes

For his wife to walk in at work

He proudly took her to see

His discovery - at last shopping glory

'Where?' she said 'There!' said he, pointing

No browny points for him that day

'They're red!' she said

Well, it was mood lighting

There was a favourite brown jacket too

Which his wife couldn't find when requested

Seems his favourite was green

Well, no one told him Khaki!

Blue-Tongued

Lizard that is

Australian Skink, rather large

When riled it opens its mouth wide

And with blue tongue poking out, hisses

Huffs and puffs and curves its body

Prewarning of a bite, that won't let go

OK, cluthching at straws here

He was once a Lizard-Boy

As the photo depicts

Throw in the turtle, wider descriptor

Reptile Boy - he grew up, and now he's back

I hear writing animal stories

On another platform, not to mention

But now the grand finale

White light split into component colours

Half-circles of primary colours

And others, so he is told

Stretching bow across the sky

True story, by Affadavit if necessary

He lives with the witness

Who cannot tell a lie

Driving through the open plains

The sun behind, ahead some rain

Dark clouds, wet ground

Storm moving away, eastwards

At just the right angle

The rays from behind

Indeed did split, spectacularly

Perfectly, producing a double rainbow

Technicolour grandeur and glory

Nature showing off,  Mother Fiesta

They stopped to just take it in, marvel

All going perfectly well, memorable

Until...

She asked 'What colours can you see?'

Maybe it was a trick question

He'd seen double rainbows before

It's just that the outer is impressionistic

More about shades of light and tones

Fading to imperceptible

After the first three or so

But he started with the inner

Of the inner, the brightest - replying

Yellow, blue.............red, maybe

Then he was lost for definite colours

She burst into tears, shedding

Disappearing into the wet ground

Adding her bit to the rain just passed

Her exuberance dashed, sympathetically

At that moment she realised

They didn't see the word the same

She couldn't believe what he missed

So many beautiful colours

But he, just a fraction of the beauty on show

Colour compromised

And what, he will never know

Seeing three colours and shades

On the inner bow is quite respectable

Three out of whatever ain't bad

And who cares about the greybow anyway

It's secondary

Who knows what you see, or me

We still call red red

And green green

And brown brown

We agree

The name is the same

But the perceived colour - he wonders

He has no trouble with the Blue-Tongue

He was bitten enough times to know

To recognise the warning

Blue is blue, that he sees as 'true'

Colours are just reflected light on retinas

Interpreted by the brain

The unabsorbed colours stuck outside

The colour that we call it

Was the colour rejected - strange

It's every colour but that

But that gives it the name

Pantones matched to patterns

And numbers for tones, and temperature

But an artist would not say that

Neither the beholder of the art

Or the orange-yellow sunrise

The white clouds in the blue skies

The many shades of green in the trees

And hues in the seas

He can see all that, awestruck - emotional

In his own way

It's those pesky colour-blind tests

That hide numbers and shapes

That give him away, brand him blind

But bereft of this power

Another kind took its place

Any creature trying to use colour to hide

Colourful and elaborate camouflage

Colour palette, blending in

He easily sees, by shape and pattern

And texture, and eyes are hard to hide

Once he showed his wife a picture

Of a near invisible gecko

Blending in to a branch

He could see it clearly

She said 'Eyes on a stick'!

So the lizard Boy grew up

Seeing shapes better than indeterimnate colours

Re-found his passion

Which maybe has a colour intensity

A number and a name, wasted on him

And rekindled, writes about nature

As a wildlife poet

So many colourful animals that can't hide

To write about...

You might not know his name

But you can probably tell

By the colour-matching of his clothes

That he is colour challenged!