Long Colours Poems
Long Colours Poems. Below are the most popular long Colours by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Colours poems by poem length and keyword.
old tracks
to
the water edge
a
thatched cottage
a river a harbour a boat
with
woman&child
a beach a village a park
'neath lilac
on the terrace
hanging out the
laundry
in a wheatfield
on a
summer day
family
in a rose garden
on a beach
playing
orange trees
nice young women
on a
veranda
hollyhocks
willows
daffodils
&daisies
& Myself
a red blouse
a red apron
getting up getting out of bed
the bath
arranging hair
before the mirror
autumn colours
bois de bologne
daughter julie
in conversation
picking cherries
boating on the lake
at the window
with
the greyhound
p!aying violin
day dreaming
NOTE:created from a selection of 240 Berthe's titles whose paintings are a chrono bio album
Small samples strewn everywhere
bending down to see
Is that truly me?
Red Yellow Pink and White
colours fill my senses bright
stretching high to touch the light
sprinkled with the dew of night.
Thorns are the pain I bear
A thing of beauty beyond compare
a scent so sweet they say
it fills the senses while I wilt away
that is the burden I have to bear
for I will wither and die one day.
Past present Spring or Fall
Death birth love and all
they carry me wherever they go
not knowing the score
which is much heavier
than they will ever know.
Written for Chantelle Anne Cooke
The Flower The Thorn or Both.
Dated 04.08.2020
Two doves in white flying, feathers glow beneath the morning's rainbow colours
by Charles Messina
High above they soar through prism's that detect their silent flight
Through dazzling arcs of colour now appearing on their wings.
First fiery red like flames are spread across the sky,
Doused then by glowing orange streaks like scattered autumn leaves
Transcending time and motion colours changing covers pristine white.
Passing through the sunlit yellow orb that lights the earth below,
Their flight path then reflections of our oceans green and blue
These kaleidoscopes of nature's beauty, ever changing as they swoop and soar
Where spectacular swirls of indigo are splashed by violet hue.
This magnificent display of colours is magnified tenfold
By these two doves quite unaware, they've captured rainbow lights
That no artist could on canvas white, paint such colours caught in flight.
in my study on my table
to left near my keyboard,
you will find a Rubik’s cube,
that is indeed a perfect sphere!
a manufacturing error, I supposed,
like errors of mint coins we see,
instead of queen’s royal head,
you may find tails on both sides.
so this was delivered to my door,
an on line order for birthday gift.
I was surprised when it arrived,
thought it was a terrible joke,
then realised its potential worth,
to display it as a novel piece!
I did attempt it, to see if it worked,
if the six colours could be aligned,
twisted, turned the spherical globe,
only to find it would change no more!
my school boy son thought it weird
that a cube could be a sphere,
he said if God had made such a mistake,
our world would have been fair and square!
my mother solved the Rubik’s sphere,
by dropping it one day on the floor,
as she muttered her apologies in fear,
it broke and revealed its open core!!
Rubik’s cube that I bought on line,
was indeed a designer snuff box!
but from the day of its first design,
it had largely remained unsolved!
Kai Michael Neumann sponsored
Rubik’s Cube poetry contest
What if the Rubik’s Cube was round?
Written 29/12/2020
Auburn Autumn believes
in glossy glittering glistening nice lustre !
Dry leaves leave.
Apples deep red
in glory on classy cluster.
Bright shade !
Blooms claim
colour blaster
flame.
Auburn Autumn believes
in glory on classy cluster :
flame !
I dream to wake up in a new world,
A world that is balanced and healthy,
A world where love, peace and togetherness thrive,
A world where war is not a resolution to disputes.
A world where no one is indigent.
My dream is,
To have my thoughts on a slate before me,
To be able to shut the door to the deluge of my mind,
To be able to permute my thoughts in a serene flow,
To have my sky clear from sombre clouds.
My dream is to wake up in a sculptor's world,
Where defects are easily chiselled out,
My dream is to have the world on a canvas,
Painted with colours of laughter, joy and hope,
Bringing daylight into the midnight train.
My dream is to always yield to the Potter,
To have Him mould me to His choice vessel,
My dream is to wake up in a different world,
A world adorned in its pristine beauty,
A world unsullied by the innovations of time.
August 12, 2022.
OLD AND NEW 5 : REBIRTHING
Machines spit out White Papers
in the name of change
birch cringe on law laden desks
chairs swivel, bins overflow
forests curdle to rebirth
Documents float before
eyeballs in our dreams
deserts emerge without oasis
guides await our asking
Greed with a capital G
still dominates
Into fast phones earthlings
want more fantasy colours
bronze cars, emeralds, struggle
promises or entitlement fulfilled
Ignorance descends with impunity
Down tumble pine forests
new bacteria party with villain
Corridors become empty
forlorn, barred, spooky
Machines dismantle
libraries dark and gloomy
Managers missing monkeys
portraits stare in cynic smile
then misty dolphins appear
East moves West
South moves north
Cymbals slap a Rebirthing
Another awaited 360%
©GhairoDanielsPoetry1999
The emerald field of magnificent alps.
variety of colours radiating with brilliant effusion.
infinite beauties melting to the admiration of one.
depth overreaching all the boundaries of fickle fin.
pleasant jewels knotted by the Master of all knowledge.
A vast sphere mapping out discordant planes of time and eternity.
all the paths in concurrent course pointing to The Way,
with its pillars firmly grounded on the Truth,
come see the winding rivers with unalterable course to The Ligh.
A mine without a bottom, a sea without a shore.
inexhaustible depth beyond the pretenses of all tinsel
the well of eternal realities incomparable with earth's shadows
break your ego to grasp this golden pearl
let not jewels gather dust in the shelve,
Take and read to know thyself and thy God
and like the ox, drink it down to find Peace.
Flowers fade and decay through wintry hours - waiting for rebirth
Quote by Constance La France
Forces of nature cannot tame.
As nothing daily stays the same
Our earth has colours rich beyond compare.
With hidden treasures rare.
Life’s tapestries all woven fine.
Through one we know who is divine.
Each thread depends upon the Master’s loom.
With every season’s bloom.
Summers sun brightens up our skies.
Autumn leaves fall before our eyes.
Winter decays, before each Springs rebirth
All colours of our earth.
We all have cracks upon our shell.
But then within strong daisies dwell
Pull out the weeds and make a brand-new start.
A revised state of art.
We cannot stop each season’s grace.
What shall befall us, must embrace.
These simple threads will bind our spirits too.
In perfect rendezvous.
All spring flowers are gone their task is done
But now we have blooms with colours so pure
The days are warm and bright with golden sun
Clear cloudless sky with a stunning azure.
Buzzing bees fly from flower to flower
Gathering amber nectar for their queen
The lawns so dry they need a rain shower
Hopefully restore them to a lush green.
Graceful butterflies fluttering around
Adding to that tranquil summer image
An aerial spectacle without sound
In winter, a scene we all envisage.
If only these days could forever last
But soon they'll be a fond memory past.
Written on the 24th May 2018.