Brown Poems - Poems about Brown

You were there before memory. Before voices had names, before light had meaning you were there. Brown as warm bread, soft as a breath held in sleep, you waited. And I held you. You were there. Through the quiet nights where shadows danced on walls and thunder cracked the sky like glass you never blinked. You never left. Your button eyes have seen more tears than the stars above my window, but never...

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If I was a poem Would you red read me Would I be brown formed in your mind of mahogany Would I be about peace Would you read me often Your voice free green softened Or cold as old coffin Like ice black lung coughing Words within breast milk tossing Would you feed me dreams Calm cranberry blue black screams That I may achieve esteem Lavender life story...

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Easter egg hunt for little ones In green grass under yellow sun Laughs that grab hearts red sonnet Bow ties brown eyes and pink bonnet So cute toddler who picks up a rock Doesn’t want the emerald egg on top Another girl seems to fuchsia fear Easter Bunny with floppy brown ears Every one excited taking peach photos Easter memories as valuable...

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The road was long, the night was cold, A stranger walked into the town. His coat was torn, his hat pulled low, His weary eyes fixed on the ground. The streets lay still, the lamps burned low, Behind locked doors, all lay at rest. But in the bar, the glasses clinked, As whiskey warmed the sleepless guests. He stepped inside, the room fell...

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The Brown Bear The brown bear doesn’t like his territory to share If you happened to wander in you would err If you shouted at him, he would not easily scare But promptly dine on you without a care ...

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hello brother, irish hearing of translations in american creole we leave, ears are not left nor right they perk and grass talls to a tickling memory for running up to the hairs of trigger trigger is limber and frequiently as december bestow herselfish visits when attendants of time dare not his fender his fender glides in names as thumper neither care to...

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Poet’s Note : Robertson & Ashton are two small wine producing towns in the Karoo of South Africa. Robertson is known as the Town of Roses & Wine because it is exceedingly beautiful, yet the wealth discrepancies between the farm owners & their workers remain vast, even to this day. I worked on a small...

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Brown Eyes In your Brown eyes, I see the world unfold, Quiet stories untold in the depths of your gaze. A thousand words, but none are needed— They speak without sound, Echoing the secrets we both know. Your eyes, soft as dusk, Hold the weight of all that’s been lost, And all that still remains— A promise, unspoken, but understood. I wonder what lies behind...

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The art teacher asked, "What color are you gonna paint that town?" I said, "I was thinking about painting it brown." "So not the usually red?" "I was tempted," I said, "but I thought it would make my parish pastor frown."...

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A nut-brown squirrel wore his smile in a curl, such a clever one was he. He ate nuts and fruit in his nut-brown suit in my avocado tree. He gave me such lip, and never did tip, and ate my harvest for free....

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Raindrops fall from gray sky As amethyst tears from brown eyes Images tattoos on mahogany minds Neon signs of division so unkind Dear ones when death comes for you Remember only love will embrace who Others have cast away with hard hearts Pray for faith and light despite dark ...

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Brown eyed boy who loves his toys ,of cardboard shiny and non My love for you burns yet my heart still yearns for the child this we hath gone ,My love my heart watch everything start to fall into place my love My heart I surrender so warm and tender my love for you I...

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I know an ambitious politician His nose in the sky like a patrician Looks down on all others As voters, not brothers ...

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They called me a coward, said my words would hide, Too timid to face the storm, I’d run and confide. My thoughts were shadows, secrets bound tight, In the echoes of silence, I fought my own fight. They wanted bold thunder, unyielding and loud, To speak like the lightning, piercing the cloud. But my voice trembled, a flickering flame, Afraid of the...

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Written: January 08, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Hilo Poet ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fields of snow are starting to melt, Pristine whiteness turns to brown shade, As snowflakes and grime in chunks dwelt, Fields of snow are starting...

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