Best Colour Poems
The lake was still sleeping
a light mist rose above,
a weathered dock could be seen,
its aged wood; full of memories.
The air crisp, breeze light,
trees majestic; watching all.
Squirrels busy scampering,
as a flock of geese soared above.
Way over yonder
clear across the still lake,
shining brightly were yellow shutters,
on our cabin; our special place.
We had toiled the garden
planted yellow roses with great care,
we had painted the old wood shutters,
yellow paint; speckled our hair.
The roof we re-shingled,
one painstaking nail at a time,
we even counted the ouches;
when our hammers got out of line.
With nothing but smiles
on our weary, aching bodies,
we held hands, and went running,
into the still of the lake; giggling.
We swam out to the dock,
it was a race; he won,
my hand he took laughing;
as he quickly scooped me up.
Our toes dangled playfully
sending ripples in the lake,
as we gazed at our cabin;
yellow shutters; fresh with paint.
The trees swayed slightly
as if nodding with approval,
for our cabin by the lake,
was our private sacred jewel.
As we cuddled together
warmth filled our souls,
for our bright yellow shutters,
symbolized, our love's blossoming growth.
It was on this very dock,
air crisp, breeze light,
when he gave me a yellow rose;
and asked me to be his wife.
Now brown, the once-blue brook meanders down
To dams where sludge has chased beavers away
As species die, our Mother casts a frown
For Nature can’t control man or his way
From fracking, tapping minerals, she groans
She coughs, red lava spews from Mother’s pores
With waste-clogged arteries, she weeps and moans
The very sight of man she now abhors
As Nature inhales toxins, man’s forewarned
Her colors change from purity to rage
Depleting ozone, Earth has now been warmed
Tsunamis, hurricanes take center stage
We shed our tears, entrapped by urban sprawl
But Mother turns her head and lets them fall
*December 5, 2018
Written for John Hamilton’s “Colour of My Heart” Contest
Inspired by “Colors of the Wind” from the movie “Pocahontas”
VIDEO DESCRIPTION
The ballad of a French artist who longs to paint the indescribable—the beautiful delicate, elusive hues of his sightless Lover’s eyes as he endeavours to describe them to her. Haunted by her eyes in the many hues of nature, he’s exasperated that his every brush stroke defies all his attempts to capture their essence. Can he ever capture the beauty of her eyes on his canvas?
How does one describe, to a sightless Lover the beautiful colour of her eyes shifting hues and paint them. It makes me realise how fortunate we sighted people are to be able to see. Though, perhaps the sightless have developed that 'Third Eye'.
The video is great to watch on your home screen also with full sound effects if you get the chance on YouTube . Thank you for your visit.
The Colour That Defies - La couleur de tes yeux.
LYRICS
I see beyond green treetops
an emerald that makes me sigh
I see beyond the cotton clouds
a cobalt that sends me high
I see beyond a storm-lit wave
a mercury gleam drift by
I see beyond the blackened dusk
an onyx peint dans le ciel
painted in the sky
But I see beyond and never find
the colour that defies
The only one I cannot paint
The one that makes me cry
I see beyond and never find
la couleur de tes yeux
the colour of your eyes
I see beyond the autumn leaves
a burnished gold I can't deny
I see beyond the twilight mist
a violet, soft yet spry
I see beyond and never find
la couleur de tes yeux
the color of your eyes
I try to shape it, trace its light
mix the shades, but they're not right
mon amour, couleur perdue
no pigments hold, what I pursue
I see beyond your sightless eyes
no hue no brush can justify
the only one I cannot name
the one that makes me cry
I see beyond and never find
la couleur de tes yeux
The colour of your eyes
The long years are harsh where the hot sun does burn
on the sand hills and plains when seasons won’t turn
where saltbush and samphire do somehow survive
and through these hot days there seems little alive.
But shade in the she-oaks can offer relief
for creatures surviving who still hold belief
the outback’s not dying though is tinder dry…
then cotton-wool clouds start to build in the sky.
And when it gets humid and balmy at night
the sunrise is red with the new dawning light
and leaves get up dancing and float on the breeze
ants start to scurry and thunder does tease.
There’s change on the way and a scent in the air
and storm birds are singing to make all aware
that drought may be over and soon there’ll be rain
the outback will flourish ‘til drought comes again.
Now pastel pink earth starts to darken to red
as it quenches it’s thirst on the deluge ahead
the creek beds awake from their slumber for years
and billabongs form behind quick rising weirs.
The pans and the lowlands are holding their fill
and outstation tanks are now starting to spill
so comes a new dawn from a heartbreaking scene
when almost like magic the land turns to green.
Where a land is vindictive and can be unkind
where water is life, and with man undermined
where vastness is changing from sleeping repose
the buds are now bursting and now they disclose…
…a rainbow that travels so long with the eye
in a landscape rebirth, to thanks from the sky
I’m taking a stroll through a live daisy chain
in a carpet of colour that follows the rain.
.
I found it between freshly cut buttercups
and a cerulean sea
Splashed upon a canvas
of a painter' s fantasy .
I am colour blind , yet since I was a child
I could feel, I could taste, I could hear
I could smell ,all that I couldn't see .
And its green. It is so green to me.
I smell it through the brewing pot
and pouring of a morning Indian tea
I taste its sugar from the maple leaf
And its green , it is so green to me.
I feel its velvets on my neck's nape
from the early buds of Spring
I hear it through the sheep bells
grazing on the hills.
I see it 'neath the harvest moon
when they drink white wine and sing.
I am colour blind , yet since I was a child
I could feel , I could taste, , I could hear
I could smell ,all that I couldn't see,
And its green. It is so green to me.
This colour of serenity
Makes me one with who I am
It is in tales and genesis
of Eve and every man .
This nature where I roam through
Far from envy, wild and free
Far from the climbing ivy
that chokes society.
Between freshly cut buttercups
and a cerulean sea.
Its Splashed upon a canvas
of a painter's fantasy.
Beyond those blues and yellows
Is it green that I can see ?
Its verdant fields I sleep on
wherever I may be
P.S - Inspired by Silent One 's Green (Colours United Contest )
bur not for the contest.
Though I'm not colour blind, this was inspired by
someone close to me who is colourblind to green and brown.
My first doll
smelled like chocolate
and her skin
just as dark
I adored her
Innocent as I was
I could have
never imagined
anyone remotely
resembling
my precious doll
could have been
committing
the equivalent of a crime
punishable
by the worst
kind of persecution
and abuse
Whoever bought
me that beautiful doll
was making damn sure
there would be
one less dirty bigot
in this bizarre world
we live in
Ever so proudly
as I clenched to my heart
my best little friend
I was blissfully unaware
I was making a statement
back in dark days of 1962
Read on air by invitation ~ August 28, 2022 'POETS HARBOUR'
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on January 11, 2018 for contest WHAT IS WHITE? sponsored by DEBBIE GUZZI - RANKED 10th
and on October 4, 2017 for contest AN OCTOBER PREMIERE sponsored by BRIAN STRAND
Me a colored blind dreamer
My other senses honed
You ask
What can I know about color
I am told red is the color of passion
I feel the heat
Between us
I smell the rose in your long black hair
The feel of the red silk nightie I remove from your body
Beneath is your browned skin
smooth and luxurious
I see it with my hands
I travel to pink with my tongue
Separate your lips
Taste the essence of you
I see the blue of my eyes in your smile
As I swim in your ocean
You who knows every part of me
Yellow is the brightness of your soul
You light my spirit
Permeating all my dark corners
You are the color of all my dreams
My rainbow and pot of gold
I am satisfied
Yet I have no desire to leave your embrace
I see and feel all your colors
Satisfy me again
Let me hear the sound of our colors combined
Since a child I have wandered and explored,
the forest and all the meadows and streams;
the spirit wind has been my great reward,
my hair taken along with golden leaves.
When, my soul is broken I walk in awe,
of each found wild creature, flower and tree;
been amazed by a sleek black birds wild caw,
each bird in the forest sings just for me.
Then, one day the spirits in the sky spoke,
telling of my aboriginal roots;
that I was as strong as the tallest oak,
now, I can hear their endless drums and flutes.
The forest is the colour of my heart,
the colour of my voice, my words - all part.
________________________
November 30, 2018
Poetry/Sonnet/Colour Of My Heart
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1090-019-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Colour Of My Heart
sponsor, John Hamilton
Fifth Place
Person of colour is coherently germane,
He is never insane.
Some things about this person of colour may seem strange,
He is simple and he is yet to engage.
This person of colour loves the critics,
It is from them, he ticks.
This person of colour is natural,
And so, he is not a trial.
This person of colour loves to exchange
Ideas beyond his range.
This person of colour loves keyboard,
Tis with this he comes on board.
This person of colour is a charcoal- a black beauty.
This person of colour is me.
He gave her a Rose what else could he do
her bands so tied a one way avenue
though not Red nor White or hard to find Blue
a token to hide from kin’s retinue.
He gives her a smile to bridge hyper space
he’s let her down his prowess a disgrace
longs for Lilac eyes that match her face
oozing memories of lasting the pace.
Everything was blue in the sky at dawn
pitting his mood being one with the thorn
a stone cold kiss for love he feels sawn
in reality this his life borne.
© Harry J Horsman 2016
- Colour Blind -
Aha! The lad has achromatopsua.
It's incurable and hereditary.
Then my mother fainted.
Since there was no cure for this dreaded disease,
will they put me up for adoption?
I wondered if they would let me live.
For colouring the rivers brown instead of the usual blue,
the teacher caned me when I was nine.
Red became ridiculous and yellow was yechy too ,
but grass was green and sky was blue
and I wondered what to do.
Denied as an artist - betrayed by my eyes ,
everyone telling me what colours to believe
until my daughter told me
I'm painting pictures with words
Green is made up of blue and yellow
Renowned colour of spring you see
The sun and sky help things to grow
Brings out the blue/green in the sea
Grasses grow and wave in the sun
Some of a bluish tint it's true
Yet still long enough for children to have fun
With old games they think are new
Green are the eyes of a beauty
Whose glance can knock you off your feet
Plus dimpled smile that says hello
Making your day feel so complete
Spring the word is musical
Listen the birds are yearning to sing
The pleasure it gives everybody
Enough to imagine wedding bells ring
Brides love to wed in the springtime
The days are longer sun will shine
The rays show through the stained glass windows
Shining on the couple as they pledge to be thine
Penned 23 March 2015
Iu
Colour of my Heart
Look to the rainbow as it paints the sky
Exquisite colors that are on display
For the heart does not question how or why
As the sun smiles to take away the grey
For my eyes are blind to the palettes hue
Rendering visions of life’s creation
Masterful pigments in a dancing spew
Filling my soul with calming elation
The artist enthralls as the colors spread
A mesmeric mosaic in the art
Such as humanity whose tears have shed
And hold a loving place within my heart
For all the colors that make up the Earth
An enchanting awake, time for rebirth.
10 SYLLABLES PER LINE
Rhyme scheme ABAB CDCD EFEF GG
Dec.06.2018
Colour of my heart
Sponsored by:
John Hamilton
N/A for contest
I see you
Now stuck in two dimensions
They sit you up
They lie you down
Semi vertical
Fully horizontal
Yet, I have the coloured lenses
Of memory
They don't know the man I can see;
Cycling, dancing, singing
Living a fully rounded vibrant life
Kind and gentle
Father, husband, friend
Grandpa, colleague, leader
Teacher, wise councillor
Bright and beautiful
All things
Now hidden
Under thin grey sheets
A cruel captive
Pencil sketched in
Monochrome
A palliative prisoner
Yet, we celebrate
A vibrant life of joy
A legacy of light and love
A space that will never quite be filled
Except with colour
We cannot see the wind, but we can view
the work it does, as through the trees it blows.
Each other’s hearts we cannot see, but you
and I can see effects of what we do.
Birds sing, the streams and rivers flow to sea,
and all creation does as was God’s plan!
So many of us see ourselves as free,
yet there are stewardships God gave to man.
We need each other; there’s no room for hate
inside our hearts. A conscience is our guide.
God gave us this. We think and we create!
To earth and to our fellow man we’re tied.
The colour of my heart – like yours- is red.
All equal, we must be by kindness led!
Dec. 10, 2018 got an N/A in the original contest
Now used for Rob Carmack's Screwed Xix Poetry Contest