Neutral, elegant and calming,
Understated and timeless,
Somewhere between a sandy tan and a golden white.
Creamy and comforting, serene and simple,
Stirring memories of my Gran’s rice pudding
And Wall’s vanilla ice cream.

It is the colour of my bedspread, so soft to touch
And my bedroom walls, which I love so much.
It is the decorator’s choice above all,
Not lifeless at all.
Yes! Mild and silky beige!
Glorious beige, wonderful beige!

And yes, I can hear you moan:
“No, not Beige Man!”
So dependable, reliable, adaptable
Yearning for a quiet life sans adventures
Never clashing, always smoothing and soothing
With his off-white ambrosia, his pale persona.
“Boring,” you say. “Bland.”
So conventional this shade of unstained wool.

But I say: “No! Come and reassure me, comfort me, gorgeous beige.
May I bathe in your Milky Way mildness.”

Scientists say it is the Average Colour of the Universe,
Of 200,000 galaxies reaching out over billions of light years.
But “don’t call it beige,” they insisted.
So some suggested ‘Univeige’ instead,
Others wanted ‘Skyvory’. Why not?
But they chose for their Not Quite White the name:
‘Cosmic Latte’.

Which, yes, of course, is beige to you and me
The colour of the Universe
And my Infinity.

© 2020 by Nicholas Henshall.
Used here with permission.