To me, chartreuse

Can never be

A green
It it too loud
Too in your face
Too sophisticated
To be anything
Other than
A daring shade
Of Red
But then again,
I didn't make the colors
So maybe
Chartreuse
Was supposed to be
A meeting,
The soft blending where
Yellow edges into green,
Serene,
Meaning that mixing
Didn't have to be obscene
That meeting in the middle
Could actually be sweet
Chartreuse breathes
Beauty
A mellow tune
Reminiscent of spring
When life is just beginning
Just staring to blend
Chartreuse exhales
Grace
The soft syllables
Bleeding into the next
Sliding like a practiced
Ballroom dancer twirling
So maybe chartreuse
Wasn't a red
But maybe
It was meant
To be green
Melding into yellow,
The soft places in between
Where compassion sleeps