Where blues merge

There is some discussion over what is perceived as the colour "blue" - which becomes complex when we consider how to describe the sea, given that it is at times yellow, grey, green - absorbing within it all that is reflected upon it. Some are confused by Homer's description of the sea as being "wine dark" - was he colour blind? But as a total amateur in such matters, I'd like to ask: isn't wine sometimes blue-ish?
Colours have a way of blending in and out of each other. Rilke wrote a beautiful poem about the nuance of colour in Blue Hydrangea, and it always amazes me how colourful the poem becomes as one reads it from the black and white page:

Just like the last green in a colour pot
So are these leaves, withered and wrecked
Behind the flower umbels, which reflect
A hue of blue only, more they do not.

Reflections are tear-stained, inaccurate,
As if they were about to cease,
And like old blue notepaper sheets
They wear some yellow, grey and violet,

Washed-out like on a children's apron,
Outworn and now no more in use:
We contemplate a small life's short duration.

But suddenly some new blue seemingly is seen
In just one umbel, and we muse
Over a moving blue delighting in the green.

Translation © by Guntram Deichsel, 2003-12-03 (this translation via here)

It is beautiful to think of sailing off into a voyage of colours, so in that spirit, I shall end today's Poppytalk Colours Week post with the exclamation: Ship ahoy!

Elements: frame and tag: maybe*mej; staple: Shabby Princess.