How green are you?

Green, the colour, has a hard time of it.
Little more than green shoots and green light are
Conceded as analogous praise- for Green
The political movement gets its aims
Absorbed by other parties and 'a green
And pleasant land' sounds middlish and tame.

Contrast 'the green-eyed monster' of jealousy,
Know nothing ineptitude incapable
Of tying its own shoelaces. Unripe fruit
And extreme signs of infection in pus.
Even painters dismiss it as a mixture
Of yellow and blue yet it is as much
A part, as they, of the rainbow spectrum.

The insult of vocabulary stings most.
Green is a verbal orphan so lacking
In synonyms and distinctions of shade.
Look at red with its shades of pink, cerise,
Scarlet and crimson as well as the choice
Of alternatives like carmine and vermillion.
Yet all it signifies are danger and blood.

Poor green has to do with the inaccurate,
Artificial and abstruse. Olive
Is but green tinged brown. Avocado was
Dreamt by makers of bathroom utensils.
The precious stones emerald and beryl
Are never everyday objects for most.

In my garden and the woods beyond are
Twenty or more shades of green and many
Last throughout the year. Ignore the whorish
Reds, yellows, whites and blues- transient guests
With nectar for colour challenged insects
Though provided only at a slut's price.

So celebrate green and eat profusely.
It is good for you. But on conditioon
That you don't expect me to wear any
Clothes of that undemonstrative colour.