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You know the sky's vivid coat, wrapping this celestial body you call Earth? That's me, Blue. A little more light, and I become Light Blue.

All right, I heard you: you grumble, and you are right, because I'm a cool color, and know reason when I see it: White light, and I'm Light Blue- Black Darkness, and I'm gone. But as long as I'm Blue, sea itself looks like me. And blue gems, azure gems, lapis-lazuli, for the rarest mosaics, or ground into pigment powder for those painters who, once upon a time, painted Madonnas' mantles or a temple's ceiling, flecked with golden stars.

In a way, I'm hard to catch: try and grasp the see, and I'll slip from your fingers, all clear and colorless, and only when I'm back down do I get Blue again!

Blue silk for ribbons and decorations on proud breasts. But, also, the color for a baby boy.

Then, methylene Blue, good for you and a remedy for poisoning.  So, you see, don't come telling me I'm the color of poison, unless you want to see me mad. That's just old hags' babble!

Blue butterflies, rather, tiny fairy-tale birds! And what do you think? Pinocchio's Fairy, is nothing but a Blue Fairy!

Then, my darling flowers, like forget-me-nots, (and who could ever forget them?) cornflowers and lobelias, and Greek hyacinth, with its heady scent, and shy, modest bell-flowers.

Blueberries can taste sharp. Add a little sugar, if you want, but I'm sure you'll seek my taste untouched, either in the woods or at the grocer's.