Sheep are but charcoal
Disguised in cotton
Snowflakes, hardly hidden
Behind never-ending stretches
Of dry-stone walls
Lilies on lily pads, abstract art

The sky is but a mirror
Blown away, twisted and reversed
Splashes and swirls of white
Painted by the wind
Illusions of eyes and limbs
Carelessly splattered across its canvas

We are but the colour-blind
Azure, or emerald?