Best Varicolored Poems
On the museum walls, a many hued color explosion,
As in varicolored gardens where beauty is spoken,
Or emerald forests where strange wildness thrives,
Scarlet macaws, blue frogs and orchid bee hives!
On nameless city streets, a steady fashion parade,
And sunshine orchards where luscious fruit is made.
Circuses and carnivals, with clowns and balloons,
And seeing flamingos dancing, on golden afternoons.
And popular culture in its varied shades and styles,
Painting upon the times, many appreciative smiles.
And the blur of lovely cars, sleek on the highway,
Heading toward red sunset, no thought of yesterday!
Saffron sun shone brightly, though it was a rainy day,
And varicolored umbrellas were up, in wild vivid array.
All shades were abloom, on the beautiful Dahlia Avenue,
And smiles were seen, in slanting rain of silvery hue!
Such mellow yellow gold, out of violet midnight dreams-
Like the heart of motley autumn, wearing spring greens!
Written on May 18, 2021
For: Charm me ~ Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
A huge tree of varicolored leaves is raining beauty,
In the days of thrills, just past a sunshine spree,
On the steady march of glory, lasting all the year,
Until the lovely snows of winter takes up its rear!
Colorful leaves fly all day and throughout the dark,
And swirl gaily and engulf me with beauty's remark.
I listen as a birdsong is floating from the treetop,
He totally unaware someone has stopped to eavesdrop.
I am certain all the world would love my pretty tree,
That rains all the luscious colors of autumn over me!
sun on autumn leaves
struck it rich with gold on gold
hued blossoms shiver
chill winds wandering
with varicolored birds, far
time's slow surrender
on saying goodbye
nature leaves hued memories
roses of the heart
richest days ripely
in the sunshine of our lives
where He shines His light
All was lovingly created by the Master's hand,
With colors shouting out beauty from every land,
Each one perceived, according to His true light,
Like the full view of stars on a clear night!
A spectrum of colors was splashed everywhere,
Including those we can not perceive are there.
Such as beautiful ultraviolet, and warm infrared,
Which is everywhere around us, behind and ahead!
The Master Painter's works are so well wrought,
Like pink rose petals scattered along the sidewalk.
And blooms of color throughout all pretty seasons,
Need no particular cause, nor any special reason!
Gossamer wings are dancing on spicy wind,
In maddening swirls of color and sunshine!
Red mists scattered, gone around the bend,
And mauve wisteria cascades from its vine.
Hummingbird premieres in dance hall days,
Along with butterflies stunningly varicolored.
Colors travel with winds in the sunny blaze,
Over the tall emerald grasses, lately stirred.
Miss Muffet was a girl of thirteen, filled with youth's beauty and charm;
And a love of vibrant life zealous, like eager, vivid thunder of blue alarm.
She was a fine student, pert and popular; like the primrose popularity;
Or stars appearing at the designated hour, sparkling like crystal clarity.
Mary Muffet lived in a small town, with loving parents and her siblings,
Who sympathized with her fear of spiders; like colorful, fall misgivings.
Friends flanked their white picket fence, in fall days of glamour, striking;
And wove fanciful tales with flourish, like flowering genesis, so enticing!
Far off family ofttimes visited Fernglen, with its farms, rich with future;
For fishing and other rollicking fun, staying on 'til varicolored, fall rumor.
They lived in the house of quaint beauty, like charming red, berry sun;
Fondly gazing on pearly moon twice daily, the ritual begun on day one.
Songs sunrise to sunset serenaded, on dappled, silent, Sowerby Street;
But, a scorching summer bled scarlet roses, at the red butterfly retreat.
Near neighbors stayed on a first name basis, in unending, plum seasons;
Of days and nights of green nature; like teal surf, which never weakens.
Summer's glory was in the tiny details, like prayer plants, giving praise;
When sun face orchids, wore sunny smiles, in colored fields of noon haze.
And jade baby toes plants were crawling, through hours of soon history;
In honey days of bicolored hibiscus, filled with heady scents of mystery.
Mary attended a church celebration one day, along with her whole family;
And food was served indoors and out, as pink robin sang of gold, happily.
Mary had such fun playing games! There was much laughter and talking.
Then Mary had a craving for cheese, so like shadows, inside went walking.
Once inside, 'Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet, eating her curds and whey;
There came a big spider, who sat down beside her, And frightened Miss Muffet away.'
As Mary screamed and ran, causing a rumpus, she drew a lot of attention;
But, was suddenly embarrassed by her overreaction, like fall's suspension.
Little Miss Muffet was thence more mature, a natural result of getting older,
And fear of spiders was left behind, like summer blossoming, grown bolder.
I was a successful, fashionable florist, in mild green days of elegant gardens,
When an orange sun beamed its pleasure, like locales where lavender begins.
I formed arrangements for many occasions, drawing beauty lovers from afar,
As pretty planets arrange for a meeting, after wild rumors of the newest star.
And crowded hours were filled with summer, like pearly dews crowd morning,
Until ruby butterflies are playing tag, and gemmed damselflies are swarming.
Friends felt I might always be found, in some area of flush bloom fragrancies,
Like raven midnight's march to daybreak, with its warm, varicolored agencies.
Fond family held festive feasts, in fading hours of sparkly, fuchsia sun falling,
As whippoorwill songs clashed with red robin's, midst magenta stars gawking.
I lived in the house of tangy, saturated noon, when flowers were in full glory,
Like the most beautiful day of a woman's life, when a bride she's come to be.
Scarlet, saffron and other hues glittered, within the soulful sector of summer,
As starlings sang songs along my street, and sun rose and retired, a stunner!
Neighbors were nomadized at times, as honeydew moon nestles in new night,
When visiting me on eves of silk and satin, when fresh June was at its height.
Silver clouds were saddled with summer sun, in suddenly days of sweet rose,
Like grey encumbering smoke from autumn fires, when in plum mists it flows.
Raven noon was in green treetops, as the inarticulate ravens were squawking,
And fading time seemed to stand still, but ephemeral moments kept walking.
One day I woke to a gorgeous view from my window, daisies pink and yellow,
In the wide field right next to my house, glowing in the rich, sunshine mellow!
It put such a smile on my face, oh my! Like flocks of pretty blue jays going by,
And I kept seeing daisies everywhere I went, like a pearlescent moon on high!
I beheld African daisies and shasta, and pom pom-like chrysanthemum ones;
Along with fine lustrous gerberas, in all colors found, in wild green kingdoms.
I wondered at my strange, good fortune, in seeing beloved blooms anywhere;
Like the young, butterscotch days when Mother said, 'We're going to the fair!'
For awhile, I saw sweet daisies by day, and it seems I dreamt daisies at night;
Like a brief mystic spell of rapture, when hidden beauty's freed from its plight.
Varicolored smoke bombs, at a three generation celebration,
Splendors, rest and excitement, on a sun drenched vacation,
A heart bursting with song, love following wherever you go;
And the return to raptures, beneath a multicolored rainbow!
Fragrant flowers opening wide, their petals to gold summer,
And a moonlit tango enchantment, on ebony edges of slumber.
Written on 6/5/2021
For: ALL YOURS (Jun 7) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Wonders of the world abound
on our earthly stomping ground,
in the seven seas profound,
midst the heavens round us wound.
Images from reaches vast
by astronomers amassed
show in varicolored cast,
cosmic glories unsurpassed,
stories of the great immense,
begging questions why and whence,
scenes stelliferously dense,
bringing past to present tense.
Oh how tantalizing to
lose oneself in starry view
of galactic vision new
where a poet’s words ring true!
Tennyson’s ‘Far--Far—Away’,
penned for Music’s haunting play
with the sounds the words convey
as they whisper, swing and sway,
tells of ‘far’ from past long gone,
murmur from ‘his own life’s dawn’?
breath where ‘doors of death’ go on
through an open curtain drawn?
Whether time or space be meant,
or spacetime together bent,
still, whatever sense is lent,
far’s remote in its intent.
After sunset’s crimson blaze
we may raise a dreamy gaze
in escape from troubled days
to celestial splendors praise.
Will our search of cosmic sphere
teach us to esteem what’s here?
Oft stargazers too I fear
must look far to see the near.
~ Harley White
Beyond the maple hills that have fought many storms,
gales don't disturb the meadow of grape hyacinths:
observe the Aurora Borealis paint the soft azure sky
into a glittering, robust gold which the fading moon envies
as thick dew starts dripping from them like idle rain often does...
Over there a varicolored aura of glitter always appeared,
and from a run-down shack blue grass was played on time...
drunken with buck beer, the big fellow with frizzy, red hair
anxiously stepped outside and started the ritual of vain fools:
thinking that fire would have burned the Earth and he would have died.
Bobtails watched him and wondered what made
his face so red and his dirty feet miss a step as he fled
to reach the meadow of grape hyacinths to cry out and curse God,
but his cussing nobody heard while his anger increased into the unfolding dawn...
exhausted from screaming he got up listening to a rustling sound coming from behind.
He looked around and saw nothing moving,
" It must be a squirrel searching for food, " he thought to himself
then a swishing wind knocked him down and an eagle swooped down to seize his beer,
" From now on, I'll never return to the meadow of grape hyacinths! " he vowed.
As time went on, he forgot his promise to never go back,
but one spring morning getting up early to watch the brilliant dawn from his shack,
he remembered the meadow of grape hyacinths and with the strong urge of seeker...
he raced there to catch the last rays of that sunrise to proclaim himself its keeper.
In childhood, we saw our tiny world
in brightest kaleidoscopic shades.
There were no greys, only brilliant swirls
of colors that formed vibrant parades
and danced among peridot-green blades.
Our days were varicolored landscapes
of flowers, many sizes and shapes.
We created our secret pathways
dropping blossoms to find our escapes
Childhood's rare world of halcyon days.
As poets, we long to find those times
of innocence and wonders unknown.
We sprinkle colors into our rhymes
But gardens of youth have overgrown
and grey slipped in at edges unsown.
At a fair, is a man making grand
"Kaleidoscopes: Their View Is At Hand!"
As myriad colors of glass spill,
I catch my breath as designs expand
in hues of a world I long for still.
March 10, 2023
for "Word Challenge--K Words Contest"
by Constance La France
howmanysyllables: 9
First Place
The velvet cloak is cascading, all adorned with sequin stars,
Final streaks of sky colors fading, as pearl moon gazes afar.
The queen's lately departed, from the plush burgundy room,
Blue Neptune on her left, and and scarlet Mars on her right,
Trailing stardust in her wake, on the way to beautiful night.
Forays into mystery are waiting, at the dark end of the sun,
And tomorrow's queue of colors, await the orders of golden!
Blueberry darkness lies in its soft, eternal folds everywhere,
And beauty travels always, diamonds and jewels in her hair!
Varicolored flowers await fiery sun, of burnished days of old,
When sunlit cream tulips went on for miles, capturing smiles.
the sunshine stunners
a varicolored valley
calla lilies wild
blacks reds and orange
at home with pinks and yellows
the swinging season
pink robin in leaves
strutting towards the sunset
unseen gardener
the queen of flowers
symbol of birth spring and love
hued belle of the dawn
elegant, lovely
varicolored or one shade
more fragrant at night
a beloved queen
on the green, scent meets freshness
in hour of power
darling of Hawaii
for beauty, sunshine's falling
in rich golden days