Mr Gray

Mr. Gray




























First in



The Pencil-Town
Folk Series




By Syndie-Lou Williams

For the reading



pleasure of all



precious children,


big and small.

















































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First in the series of



The Pencil-Town Folk






Syndie-Lou Williams




































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Once upon a time,


in the world of rhyme,



lived poor Mr. Gray


on a particular day.






No friends had he,


nobody for tea.



No smile on his face,


Not a pleasing place.






Along came a little child



so sweet, meek and mild.


Hayley was her name,



along the road she came.










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Smiling so sweetly,



she greeted him meekly.


Mr. Gray turned around


and kicked the sand on the ground.






“Why are you so sad?”



asked Hayley, “Do you feel bad?


Does your tummy ache?



Oh, for goodness sake!”






“Oh no little one;


it is not the old tum.



It’s much more than that;


you see, I feel so flat.”






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“Please tell me why



all you do is cry.


You make me feel so sad.


It really can’t be so bad!”






“I have to say this,



Hayley, you are bliss.


To chat with you just for a while



always leads to a smile.






I’m a sad fellow


because I’m so sallow.



I’m not red or green


or pretty and clean.






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Neither could I make


a delicious chocolate cake.



For that you would need brown,


a different colored fellow in this


town.”






Hayley looked amazed.


“But,” she said, “you’ll be praised



for all that you can do,


for your color and your hue.






Don’t be so glum.



Come along old chum;


let’s go for a walk


a friendly chat and a talk.”







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So Hayley and Mr. Gray



walked off on that day


to visit some friends


to try and make amends.






Mrs. Red was in her garden



painting her Dolly Varden.


“How do you do?” Hayley said



nodding her pretty head.






“Hello, Mr. Gray,


how are you today?



And what is your name?


I’m so pleased you came.






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Mr. Gray has been so glum



and he said it’s not his tum.


We just don’t know what it is.


Can you help us if you please?”






“I certainly will try,”



said Hayley with a sigh.


“We need to get to the bottom



of Mr. Gray’s problem.”






Along came Mr. Yellow.


A very jolly little fellow.



“I’m sure he can help,”


cried Hayley with a yelp!






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“You stood on my foot,



Mr. Yellow, you must look


where you’re going!”


said Hayley throwing






her hands up in disgust



as Mr. Gray kicked the dust.


“Are you prepared to help?”



asked Hayley with another yelp.






“Oh yes, it’s only a pleasure!


I would go to any measure



to help a fellow color


gain his pride and his valor.






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“Now, what seems to be the

matter?



Mmm…It seems you have got


fatter.


Could that be the menace



causing all this sadness?”





“I really think not!”



said Hayley feeling hot



under her little collar


at such a rude fellow.






“The problem is not simple,”


scolded Hayley with a dimple



in one cheek, “I know,


come, Mr. Gray, let us go.”



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Along the dusty road


the two of them strode,



chatting all the while.


Mr. Gray even managed a smile.






“Maybe my complaint


is as simple as the paint



Mrs. Red was applying


while I was crying.”






“Whatever do you mean?”



asked Hayley with a beam


on her beautiful face



as they stepped up their pace.









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“There are so many colors,



such pretty dames and fellows;


Mrs. Red, Mr. Yellow, Dr. Green…


the fairest I have ever seen.






There is Professor Purple, Mauve,


Pink.


There is Mr. Black, Tan, and I think


in the box of crayons I even might


have seen the glorious Queen


White.






There is Master Blue


and Miss Orange and there too


is Lily Lilac, Sweet Cerise…



She’s Mrs. Red’s niece.





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…And then there is me,



as gray as gray could be.


So dull and so glum.


Not a pretty little chum






like Master Blue maybe



or Miss Orange you see.


They are so bright.



A pleasure to the sight.






All the other colors


are such jolly fellows.



It makes me so sad


to look so dull and bad.”






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Hayley could barely talk.


Such a shock at the thought



of a crayon box without


a Mr. Gray about.






“I am of such a young age


and even at this stage



of my life


I can see the strife






it would cause us all



if there was no call


for a Mr. Gray



in our pencil tray.









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What about the elephant,


the monkey and the coelacanth?


What about the parrot


and the unripe carrot?




And then there is the rhino

and the whale and the pine…no


that is yellow, but there is the powerful

bear




and the rain clouds


and the music sounds


and if you close your eyes really tight,


anything that’s in your sight




could be a shade of gray.


Oh, I do hope you would say


a crayon box is complete

only when Mr. Gray has taken his seat.”



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And so, the story ends.


All have made amends.



Hayley has enjoyed her day


with the now proud Mr. Gray!










The End




























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Keep up to date with the


adventures of Hayley and the folk


of The Pencil-Town.























Look out for other books in the


series:


Mrs. Red


Miss Pink


Professor Purple








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Review
























































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