The blue marble

Rolling down the soft green slopes,
Knocking on boulders strong,
A blue marble makes its way,
To the plains down below.

To the blue beaches with soft white sand,
Where the green waves lap,
Washing across the white lime slabs,
As they slide to the darkened depths.

Bouncing through the myriad streams,
Joyous torrents propel it on,
By the time it reaches sandy shores,
It is caked in muddy brown.

Yet from inside, it is still a sparkling blue,
The only colour it has ever known, and will.
It washed in the waves of the yellow sunset,
Of which it had heard. and oh so wanted to see.