Long Mauves Poems
Long Mauves Poems. Below are the most popular long Mauves by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mauves poems by poem length and keyword.
In western skies, an eagle soars, at ease.
Below, the curving Colorado flows,
Winding its way through deep and dusty seas
Carving canyon walls steep, through tracts of time.
Twilight to twilight, its myriad moods
Are freshly painted on those ancient walls
Like rich frescos of reds and tans and mauves
In syncopated colors, all sublime.
The eons are borne by water and wind
From sea to land to sea and back again.
Their passage scribed on texts of sand and lime
Layer on layer like pages of time
Forming holy testaments neatly stored
In earthen temples and archives of stone,
With tales to read, as silent oceans roar,
For those with eyes to see and ears to hear.
I would have liked to be in the head of Claude Debussy,
write the “afternoon prelude of a faunal”,
Or "the toy box", or "Bergamasque suite", "La mer",
be a musician, a seer, and invent new music,
I would have liked to know all the images of the gardens,
I would have liked to write for clarinet, triangle
Or the piano in its case,
I would have liked to be in the head of Claude Debussy,
write a “Scottish walk”, a “moonlight”,
Playing the piano, in a garden filled with purple lilacs,
No doubt that leaving a footprint is giving
the best in the world
I would have left for my daughter a «tribute to Haydn»
And the «children’s corner», something to dream about at night,
I would have liked to be in the head of Claude Debussy.
(Two ducks on the sea, bring me back to reality,
They don’t need me, or Claude Debussy.
I would never be in the head of genius. )
J’aurais aimé être dans la tête de Claude Debussy,
écrire le « prélude à l’après midi d’un faune »,
Ou « la boite à joujoux », ou « suite bergamasque », « La mer »,
être musicien, voyant, et inventer une musique nouvelle,
J’aurais aimé connaître toutes les images des jardins,
J’aurais aimé écrire pour la clarinette, le triangle
Ou le piano dans son écrin,
J’aurais aimé être dans la tête de Claude Debussy,
écrire une « marche écossaise », un « clair de lune »,
Jouer du piano, dans un jardin rempli de lilas mauves,
Sans doute que laisser une empreinte, c’est donner
le meilleur au monde,
J’aurais laissé pour ma fille un « hommage à Haydn »
Et le « children’s corner », de quoi rêver la nuit,
J’aurais aimé être dans la tête de Claude Debussy
(Deux canards sur la mer, me ramènent à la réalité,
Ils n’ont pas besoin de moi, ni de Claude Debussy.
Jamais je ne serais dans la tête du génie.)
For still there are so many things that I have never seen: in every wood in every spring there is a different green. - J. R. R. Tolkien
Stunning light reflects the music,
Softly playing in hues of beautiful,
Dreamy buds, inspired by the sun,
Whisper hope in gentle creams,
Fragile pink and blushing mauves,
Delicate peach and pale lilac – peace…
Dazzling shadows, vibrant scarlet,
Glittering jewels of sapphire, luminous
As the pearly white that soothes,
Reflecting the songs of a quiet twilight,
As the leafy silence breaths hope
Through the spring’s glowing blooms.
Climbing, gliding, soaring over windy seas
Beyond the waves, through the morning’s breeze,
Perfect wings, sail gracefully…
Reminding each one that nature has her life,
With raspberry blessings, in quiet dreams,
Her heart melts the moments that foretell of spring.
Rich tints of laughter, silence the moon,
Reassuring the risktaker, blessing the truths
That aspire to bless us with rhythms,
From a season of purity, glowing with life,
Forever trembling and remembering
Easter, His sacrifice…
As the Spring embraces everyone who agrees
Despite the winter’s muteness,
There is the promise, the belief – that can see…
Beyond the doubts, beyond every fear,
Faith that bleeds joy into those who believe,
As Spring erases the past with its lively melody –
A melody of satisfaction for those who can see…
Spring’s enchantment in the showers, the trees, the message
Of a love that this season seems to impart –
The message of hope that Spring brings to hearts,
Who listen to the lyrics of a light falling through the quiet,
The lyrics found inside the soul who Spring has stirred…
With its unending blessings of pure sweet love.
I ride the vibrant crests
Of a tangerine moon
Glowing across stardust ridges
Where inspiration tickles
My heart with laughing dewdrops
I drift on the edge of a smiling
Emerald forest filled with
Whispery pines and strong oaks
All the trees remind me why
The birds make a home on branches
With their bristling, dancing leaves
I walk through a thriving garden
Alive with scarlet and cobalt
Rare colors in the choiciest purples
Mauves, sunset yellow and lavender
Hastening to create a sweet fantasy
I breathe in the crisp, cool air
Of an autumn night, a summer light
Feeling the freedom of a heart
Gentle and warm, feeling forlorn
For the tender caress of rainfall
Caressing my shoulders lightly
I kiss the silence with hope
For moments poured full of joy
While my heart whispers
Recklessly thrilling in the vitality
Of a dream that fulfills me
I ache for these days of simplicity
When light plays with the shadows
Echoing through the longings
With cries resembling poetry
Lingering on the edge of sanity
I dream, I imagine, I praise
With a prayer of faith
Believing in the God who reigns
High above my thoughts
In a heaven where I will hope
Love continues to abide, eternally
Inner Child Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
September 1, 2021
Dark green is my jealousy, red is my love
Purple is for righteous anger
And that from heaven above.
Blue is my humour side
But it is really quite pale.
Brown is for misery,
But we don’t want to hear that tale...
Golden is my namesake
For that I am not to blame
It was my burnt golden coloured car
Parked in a shady lane.
Yellow is for happiness, and time to get in the sun
White is for the soothing lotion, when I find I've burnt my bum.
Black is for the night- time, and I see a lot of it
Mid green is for the grass and the foxes poo that's on it.
Orange is for laughter, well I mean it’s got to be
Anyone seen wearing orange is up for a laugh sure-ly.
Brown apart from being fox poo, is a soothing colour
Grey is so dreary, you couldn’t get much duller.
Then we get into all those names that no one can spell or remember
Taupe and mauves and stranger ones, of that club I’m not a member.
Pinks are for baby girls all rosy and perfection
Boys are in the blue tones, there is quite a selection.
But for me the best colour is the green that shines so bright
In the eyes of my lover, of whom I dream at night
We watched the sun,
The blue sky fading away;
Pinks, blues, mauves mingling,
Finally the sun falling into the earth.
Then you kissed me,
With lips sweetly gentle;
My world spun out of control,
And from that moment and that kiss.
My life has changed,
For you were my forever;
My very reason for breathing,
My heart and soul and my destiny.
And in death still,
You are my true love;
For, I will never forget that kiss,
That kiss will stay with me forever.
_______________________________
July 23, 2013
Poetry/Verse/That Kiss
Copyright Protected, ID 07-494-442-23
All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La France
Deep within my hidden pastel dreams
are soft sweet colors of a newborn spring
dressed up in mauves and pinks and windham creams
while giving hope to love and all it brings.
Painted in the colors of the dawn,
like pinks and purples of the morning sky,
magenta dreams will bloom and love will spawn
as newly mated hearts begin to fly.
And thus our lilac love has taken flight
while sharing orchid thoughts without remiss;
soft words and fuchsia touches in the night
are punctuated with a crimson kiss.
The coral sun rays beaming from above
are raining down these colors of our love.
October 23,2024
Poem of the Day - October 24, 2024
I have a small secret confession to make,
And I’ll tell you about it right now.
It’s a fetish I have with the skin on my face,
Above and below my eyebrow.
I love to tattoo small spots and freckles,
Just like the young kids who have lots.
The more that I have the better person I am,
Better person because I have dots.
The dust of cute is the sun kissed look,
It’s the imperfect that makes them so pure.
Stunning, I love them, the bronze, gold and mauves,
Each one, to me, has an allure.
I landscape my face adding shades just for depth,
Using pigment instead of permanent ink.
I love every freckle put onto my face,
And I share them when I smile, laugh or blink.
22 august 2016, interesting contest
Now that I’m sixty years old,
I need two things
To survive another day,
My Bible and some black coffee,
Would I add some cognac?
Writing is not that important,
I have to walk every day,
To treat my diabetes,
Now that I’m sixty years old,
I like to smell the roses, mauve ones,
Thinking of my dear sisters,
I need two things,
My Bible and some black coffee.
Maintenant, que j’ai soixante ans,
J’ai besoin de deux choses
Pour survivre un autre jour,
Ma Bible et du café noir,
Ajouterais je du cognac ?
Écrire n’est pas si important,
Je dois marcher chaque jour,
Pour soigner mon diabète,
Maintenant que j’ai soixante ans,
J’aime sentir les roses, mauves,
Penser à mes chères sœurs,
J’ai besoin de deux choses,
Ma Bible et du café noir.
in silence i stand
wistful recollections
censure this mind
unfolding fragility of fate
lost in soft shadows of time
nothings irreplaceable
death's cold hand touches me
between the whispers and the sighs
of lingering memories
awakening
deep inclinations
that taunt me
in your ruins
silently abstracted
one last tear
fragile as raindrop
falls beyond
the clouds part
in the break
of dusk
beauty unfolds
the essence of soft shadows
through a sunset serenade
with trails of lilac mauves
atop your grave
the tulips whisper back
through gossamer breeze
as day fades to night
i turn back misguided
in silence i stand
July 19, 2019
20 titles from 20 friends Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Richard Lamoureux
In silence I stand ...Craig Cornish
Deep inclinations ... Richard Lamoureux
a sunset serenade....Victor Buhagiar
lilac mauves ...Line Gauthier
Between the whispers and the sighs ...John Hamilton
awakening ...Carol B
The Essence of soft shadows....Andrea Dietrich
the tulips whisper ....Caren Krutsinger
clouds part ....Sara Kendrick
lingering memories....John Gondolf
beauty unfolds... Charles Messina
one last tear....Sunshine Smiles
Fragile as raindrop....Nette Onclaud
nothings irreplaceable ....Gershon Wolf
Fragility of Fate....Silent one
Death's Cold Hand...Connie Marcum Wong
in your ruins ...Gregory R Barden
Wistful Recollections ....Emile Pinet
Silently Abstracted.....Dear Heart
lost in soft shadows of time....Carrie Richards