Best Blue Stone Poems
Good Evening and Good Day to all my PS friends
This Poem is based on one of my recently made Painting presenting the true beauty of Nature.
The Immense Beauty of Nature.
Was spread out in front of me,
The immense beauty of nature,
On the slopes of high mountains,
Deodar and trees with yellow leaves trees were standing,
The image of the breathtaking color of those trees,
Was touching the sky with its unique beauty,
It was not only alluring the earth was pulling the heaven towards it,
I became emotional and wanted to get carried away in those moments,
Where among the blue stone rocks,
Those standing trees were talking to the sky,
That sweet singing and music dear to the ear of the river,
Was telling everyone,
The immortal song of that beauty. 01
The river was flowing slowly in the valley floor in front of me,
The stream of that river too has its own music of yesterday,
Got into tune with the lonely trees,
Was engrossed in composing a heavenly music. 02
But I was thinking,
Amidst this immense beauty,
I being a sailor from Ganges,
How will I be able to sail my boat?
Amidst these flowing small and big rocks,
The boat on which I make people sit to cross the river Ganges,
I make them cross the river singing my songs,
How will she be able to move here? 3
Ravindra K K
Kanpur India 18th Feb. 2024
Two solid rocks stand tall and firm
With a sunset soon around the bend
Upper sky the bluest of rays
Being between two rocks, sun displays
Grey and blue stone welts in the sky
Where pink clouds bond with the water dry
Yellow near the surface, eye-line
Sunset begins with a wry divine
Open the space, I see the end
Below is the feel of heartfelt lend
Red and gold enfold together
Nothing is better than this weather
Russell Sivey
I hold three magic rocks, in my hand
Rolling them over and over and over
Leaving this reality behind, far behind
Sailing away on my four-leaf clover
The mossy gray stone is no mystery
Up inside this stone lives my past
Sometimes I fear that my memories
Just seem to be fading way to fast
The green stone is so beautiful to see
It tis’ the stone representing my today
Where all is as beautiful as it can be
For it is with the Angels I pray
The blue stone is as deep as the sky
No one knows what the future holds
In it I see the world waiting for me
And all of the stories I have yet told
I hold three magic rocks, in my hand
Rolling them over and over and over
Leaving this reality behind, far behind
Sailing away on my four-leaf clover
The sun has beautified
once again my shadow.
Underneath its fingers,
on a field where all are being made
immortals, my shadow
spreads out like scroll of time.
‘Tween the sun and the shadow stand
my thoughts, staring at the blue stone
where my breath first blushed.
With love as bright
as noonday light,
I know nothing will change, none will
ever care my heart as she did.
The sun glows as much…
and the rosy dust on my shadow
is her beautiful aura.
My blue feathers support me
in this land of golden light,
for I drift down slowly to sea of blue
In my talons I hold a blue stone
blue fire,
tumbling light
For this blue stone holds my love,
I wheel and turn,
in puffs of wind,
the stone begins to burn
Heat of love sparking through,
blue of light too
I look for my soulmate,
she is near,
I sense it
My love,
of feathered gold
is close by,
for I cannot break the tie,
that we hold
Gold and blue
shines through
She rises to meet me,
from the sun,
golden sun
Golden heart
Going for the fire of blue,
sparking through
Gold joins blue,
colours mixed through.
Blue fire,golden hue
Two are as one,
blaze of golden blue light
Blue of sea and land,
gold of sun,
gold of sand
Golden hue,
and sapphire blue,
unfurled
in this blue world
Blue world
of sea and land,
gold world of
sun and sand
Release my blue stone of fire,
agony of desire.
Encompassing feathered gold
of which I never tire.
This blue sapphire
I hold tight and true,
sparks only for you
'O Stormy Nights
From the left I sat in the corner
Above which the moon shimmered frightfully near
Brought forth and summoned here
The young moon's radiant voice
Painted pictures of intricately layered laments
Over the decaying bones of the dead
This brought to my attention
The sinner's stone clutched in my hands
Shattering my doomed façade
For as the voices grew stronger
A white fire seeped into the crevasses of my chest
Quickly burning away innocence
But from the charred remains
Was born a pheonix with elogant red wings
Wrapped around an icy blue stone
With eyes as gorgeous as sapphire
They spotlighted my heart for the world to see
Bringing forth my spirit
With a windswept gaze I watched
As the ghost reflection of myself mounted the pheonix
Leaping out into the open night
It was a spiritual dance of fire and rain
Mixing together with a resounding crash of thunder
But left me clearly untouched
From the ruby red back I watched the lands
From twilight sprinkled cities to open fields fall away
The speed of flight refreshing and revitalizing
Yet from the flight I was thrust
Speeding ever faster toward inky blackness
Until scarlet stars burst before my eyes
And awoke I did sitting in the corner
Looking out my window to see the storming night
Summoned from my dreams
Majestic shades of green
rise with spring awakened scallion spikes;
Hunter greens edging into the forest hues
blended in jaded moss clusters pacing;
shamrock stepping stones low upon the grass,
amidst fern colored harlequin dreams;
minting limes scent the valley lily fields
with fragrance of spring rain blooms set free.
Shaded emerald pines stretch tall and regal kings
touching an arctic blue stone spruce assembly;
mixing morning azure navy skies creeping in
wafting untethered upon the ocean cobalt waves;
longing criers wail at the wind swept of peacock plumes
floating a wavy carefree farewell to Aegean lapis streams;
Each call out - come hither with scent and fragrance of the seas
released surf to pantone Persian midnights
and all the hidden repressed dreams
of spring in early bloom
and oceans writhing in storm tossed summer stills
blending earth and sea with colored dreams.
Deep inside the soulish blue,
Moonstone shines,
Secrets held from ancient times,
Strange connections,
Locked between the pearly veil.
Mysteries powers,
Create rhythmic tides,
Connecting the blue stone
With the moon,
Stilling and calming
Protection from oceans wide,
Beliefs in its preciousness,
Bright blue color of the skies
Romances first love,
Looking into her eyes,
Reflect the inner life,
Sleeping through dead of night,
Moving into unseen realms
Dreaming dreams,
Secrets of the universe,
Emotions of the blue,
Fetching hope,
Life and lessons,
Dancers with artistic expressions,
Healing from depression,
Moonstone positiveness
All in the balance.
Growth and strength,
Full of passion.
28/01/2017
Wendy Jae
Far way from the starry night , where the sea is so deep.
Sailing away into the foolish moments of my thoughts.
I remember the missing light of the autumn sunset.
The thought goes on the waves of the North Sea.
Sad is the moonlight into the silent of the night,
And the sea water touches my foolish eyes .
Which of the universe belong this moment?
How many stars in the sky will find our time?
Night and day are living at the same roof,
All the memories have the color of the night's eyes.
II
Blue stone rolls on the sands of the Baltic.
Now I could find and bring it at my home.
The distance wishes a dune of white sand,
Who was made in dream of a Danish mermaid.
On the border of the sea sleep the hopes on sands.
Eternal desires that never rest, are a blue stone
Rolling the blue stone in north sea with a warm heart,
Blue stone holding in memories , left from the distance in thoughts.
How can I forget the sea star that adorn the eyes of illusion.
Eternity is living on the rocks of the harbor. Who, will breaks this time?
Over a hundred years ago in the bush of west Queensland
the cure all for everything was,
a mixture of axle grease blue stone and arsenic.
It was known to heal up skin cancer,
sore backs on horses kill swamp cancer on a horses belly ...
.it killed the skin cancer on old lumpy an Aboriginal about 1900 ad..
.bluestone was used to get rid of proud flesh on a horse...
.My great great grandpa Joe White,
when asked was it any good?
He replied it will heal up a dogs ass in 3 days,
and grow hair on it on the 4th ...
arsenic puffed into white ants kills many
and they cannabalise till the last ant goes hungry
thanks for your time...
Don
blue
the expanse of the ocean
the expanse of the sky
a cool blue stone beneath it all
the wind ripping through you
a sleep that engulfs you
peace is also blue
smooth as silk on your tongue
the metallic twinge of silver
so cold, is that blue
a silent winter
filled with loneliness
that quiet, almost indistinguishable sound
just drown in that hue of blue
They are gone, faces peering through valiant heart of sorrow that only monther perceive.
They are gone, and with them prevails honor and dignity they prayed for.
Thet are gone, and there identity bolding inspires in blue stone granite,
proclaiming peace.
In the dry blue-stone river bed
I found a place to stop and rest my head
Upon the cool rocks beneath the canopy of shade.
Above, the bark and leaves
were a see of green and grey.
The hues varied, but the context stayed the same.
I relaxed there a while and forgot my name
For the sake of simpler things
With which to be entertained,
Like the smooth refreshing Summer's breeze.
It eased my mind as it turned the leaves
And revealed to me a kaleidoscope
Hidden in the forest's canopy.
Blue Stone
Sagittarius piano fingers waltzing splendidly upon my laptop.
I can hear your nervous ticking heart clapping and tapping—
Collapsing there— as the meat philosophers send their brocades—
You never told me your name— whether real or frequently imagined—
As you came through my back door with nyloned legs shaking,
Your virgin-scented pearls shining inside my blue-eyed machinations,
Your curious feeders seeking certain electric favors with lip gloves.
Now you give your blue stone to me as one would gift a rich beggar,
To regale the climes with thousand island cadenzas and madrigals.
Sagittarius piano fingers dancing like salad fire upon my laptop.
"...in spring, the most delicate feathery yellow of plumes and plumes and plumes and trees and bushes of wattle, as if angels had flown right down out of the softest gold regions of heaven to settle here, in the Australian bush."
— D. H. Lawrence, Kangaroo
Paraboloid totems of evergreen hope, upside down,
Sparkling white trinkets, sparkling white dears.
‘What do we need to do now?' you ask
I got my husband’s winged gift around my neck, a blue stone dragonfly.
Isn’t my green dress an ornamental kingly shroud?
Both stormy and luminous, the cuts on my arms are still caked in dried blood;
You are sad: your heart bleeds into mine with a bit of emerald dust and ruby red sunrises;
The doctor is the Rose; I am the Flame.
You are all marble, Plato, self-contained;
I am grotesque, decaying, Lilith-born.
My scars are greyhound clouds or maybe trim poodles
Whose slightly wolfish eyes will bleed
A blazing cornucopia of yellow wattle sprigs;
Doctor, your heart is a gold mine and joyous as Spring.