Brownish Poems | Examples

black hawk

why is it a nightmare,
to have these dreams,
aspiring to
this  black hawk
that happily flies
to any un-told land
in the skies.
I'm in love with this girl,
with the brownish
and gorgeous
lavish eyes,
wish she
would
welcome me aboard
gently
hands upon
her back,
hanging on
by her feathers.
I won't let go.......

At 3

At 3

At 3 a 
haughty handful of 
mist helped continue to
grow in 
density the 
relationships among my 
neurons (my neurons are 
brownish-yellow).

grandmothers hands

the back of my hands are spotted
with brownish red splotches and dashes
they are as wrinkly as a Chinese dog
blue veins are popping up in ugliness
so this is why old women wear gloves!
the same reason they wear scarves around their turkey necks
I was never prepared to get this old
did not realize it was a possibility
until I began wearing my grandmother’s hands

The Leaves of Autumn

Like cherry blossoms in the spring
the leaves of autumn loosely cling
upon the drab, dark brownish bark
creating contrasts, stunning, stark.

As autumn leaves descend in droves 
upon the earth like manna loaves
they blanket her with a patchwork quilt
like muddy waters settle silt. 

The autumn leaves of various hues
oh, how they, our senses schmooze.
The yellow, brown, orange, and red
delight our sight before they’re shed.

Who would believe that dying leaves
could such enchanting magic cleave.
What a parable! Beauty in death,
'Tis how God views His saints’ last breath.

I am A Beer Taster

I am a beer taster it's an odd job
Beers are like nuts,  they're  tasty, nuts do  soothe  the  hops
I drink a lot of beers , I  drink  them  with cheer
My skills i learned with glee at many workshops.
I smell  them  note thier quality I love beer.
I taste the feel . These shops do have the chops
An oatmeal stout  and, ales of cream are the top
A Lambic ale  is fruity Drink  them with peers
An oatmeal  stout,dark, tastes of cocoa I state,
An oatmeal  stout does taste like coffee, it's great .

You like cream that's whipped ?Cream ale a dream.
I do love  brown  fruity tasting  wheat ale .
This ale is light  it tastes like whip cream
A ale of fruity wheat on tap will never fail.
And many tastes this brownish ale's  theme
I check out  findings  raptly  for each beer,
I taste the ales and beers ,my job my career

Two Neat Flowers

white and brownish-red
so beautiful two tone! what
a great afternoon!!

whimsical water bug

bug
spookie
innocent
brownish creature
today in bathroom
whimsically fun
wandering
water
bug

A Delightful Encounter

Walking downstairs;  I see particles of light,
Shimmering in my dark brown long hair.
The light of stars is so bright that it
Envelopes all the darkness into light.
Sauntering there; I am made aware,
By the crispy clear voice of my dad saying,
“Come over there!” I stare looking at his short 
Grey hair illuminating a silhouette of bright light.
Dressed all in white, standing. 
A long wooden dining table is next to him. 
That’s where my aunt and uncle are seated side by side.
My father then extends his tan brownish colored hand,
Offering me a golden colored round Ladoo.  
I take it and eat the Ladoo with fervor.  
Chomping away nothing flavorful and salivating,
As my surroundings change to pitch black with holding 
Nothing but air.

SELF PORTRAIT

A skin, bit rough, and brownish fair;
A rounded face and short black hair;
Fine vignettes on a wide forehead 
that seems to think the ways ahead. 

Cherry red lips, thick and pouty;
Two big ears, a nose that's humpy;
Big black eyes with flickery wink 
seem to fathom the way you think.

Self portrait poetry contest 
7th place

Stars Of Clarity

A purplish black dark sky night 
Brushed the reddish moon with white 
The sun has painted the sky with orangish hues 
And tinted the stars of clarity with greenish blues 
The yellowish new sun just minutes old 
Has gild the moon a silverish gold 
When all the brownish leaves turned gray 
It rose a beautiful pinkish day

Beauty of Mahh Man!!

Looking at the stars, I think about you… 
Remembering ur charms, that made me feel ululu.. 

Your those brownish tangled hair… 
Whom I always want to stare… 

Your those ocean deep eyes.. 
Where my whole world lies.. 

Your that straight, lil red nose.. 
From where the anger always blows

Your those slight rough pair of lips… 
From where the marvelous words slips.. 

Your that sharp & attractive jawline.. 
 attracting me like its my lifeline.. 

In short, your that beautiful, gorgeous face… 
Which always  makes my heartbeat race… 

And your that not so famous smile… 
Oh god!! It always succeed to run my heart mile.. 

Oh!! I forgot to mention your amazing humor… 
Which increases the beauty of ur glamour

Autumn

The softer kin of winter
Brownish leaves crippled beneath my feet
Sing baby birds, sing
The harsh winter is near

Sweet kinder winds blowing through my hair
The softer kin of winter
campfires and laughter filled the crispy nights
The unpleasant kin is near

The slightly kissed of the sun
Whispers of the pumpkins king, "No more pies please"
The softer kin of winter
Wrap your body tight the other kin is almost here

Dancing in the crispy air
Such memories to make and to make and to make
We don't speak of that other kin only
The softer kin of winter

Testament of Love

She was gazing at the immaculate beauty
A sunset melting golddrops in the horizon.
A combustion of pink and purple in dusk  
igniting a ruby fire in the twilight canvas.
He was gazing into her beautiful eyes,  
brownish blue, infusing a calm comfort.
A pastel sky in shades of soft fuchsia,
coalescing a marmalade with mauve.

Ribbons of colors drizzled honey,
idyllic moments enveloped in love.
lingering sunrays outlined a dream,
cicadas sang in blue background.
They wished the sun would never end
looking for a shelter in night's doorway.
But the sun must set to rise elsewhere,
this testament of love, only once a day.

Filled With Fungi

So many mushrooms have sprung up
I’ve never seen before.
My yard is filled with fungi
In varieties galore.

The bright red flat ones you can’t miss,
The tall ones, creamy white;
The brownish kind with puffy tops,
The beige of little height.

Some tiny yellows try to hide
Near coppers like a penny.
In prior years with not much rain,
I don’t remember any.

I wonder if they’re poisonous.
If so, I’ll never know it,
For only store-bought fungi
Will be eaten by this poet.

When We Know a Cool Apple Cider Would Be Nice

When We Know A Cool Apple Cider Would Be Nice

Brownish red hues emitted from angry red skies
Such depths of emotions sometimes are born from lies
Much as rattle-snake rings it tails before it bites
Poor country boy sang, save me, just before he dies
And there was no angel to save him that black-night
As wild river turns and floods the new founded town
The town throng asked who is wrong and who is right
All the hero gave them was a tormented frown
The storm smiling idlily, at first hides its face
Then it gave forth rampant lightning and heavy blows
When all was over we had such a torn up place 
We knew that old man Satan had played his show.

Asking ourselves if the pain is worth the damn price.
When we know, a cool apple cider would be nice.

Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet
April 5th 1974

Note
Sometimes we know that making the decision is much harder than the actual fight will be.

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