Long Pale yellow Poems
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A bouquet of canaries came calling.
A yellow rose quartette.
They sweetly sang and expected nothing in return.
Preened the pangs of life away.
They were looking for a place to rest.
They had been flushed from the hills and valleys.
But never did they once complain.
Life continued.
With days and nights of water colored nonchalance.
After some time,
I noticed their plumage turning dull.
Their songs all but stopped.
Suddenly one day they all just flew off...
On an icy horizon
sat a fattened red-tailed hawk.
Flashing a pale-yellow beak.
Reflecting in a jagged mirror called fatal destiny.
I've lived on this planet for five years now,
In deafening silence, that's peaceful somehow.
The moment we crashed, seemed almost a dream;
Stars twinkled above the clouds pink and cream.
We landed in tranquil waters, quite luckily,
And left our craft at the bottom of blue sea;
We finally reached land, but it glittered so!
The 'sand' was really fine diamond, all aglow.
A landscape not rocky, but diamond, we'd find,
But for the lush vegetation, we'd all be blind!
A variety of edibles, both succulent and sweet,
Tangy and flavorful. There is plenty to eat!
The vegetation is purple, and we have three suns.
As for beings, it appears we're the only ones!
The suns are red, and the skies are pale yellow,
Incredibly beautiful here, but nowhere to go.
There is no birdsong, and no wild cricket fun,
But, the distant mountains twinkle in the sun!
We also own sweet and romantic, starry nights,
With the near and distant moons shining bright!
All in all, I guess we were extremely lucky,
To find a beauty world, viable for the plucky.
My only regret is that, nevermore will I roam,
Despite all I have loved, I can never go home!
The pale yellow sky, reminds me of a smile that never fades
From a greeting etched in memory, immune to words like cutting blades
The tall emerald trees are drawn toward the layers of light
A pillowed curtain for the baby blue skis, waiting to darken in the night
I will hold onto the smile in a world full of escalation
I will carry hope it will bring peace in dreams, without fabrication
The light guides me through changes, only the seasons know
A place I will probably be sitting later, writing about falling snow
These reminders are the gifts, this creation never fails to give me
They guide me through each stage of unsettling uncertainty
As I am ready to close my eyes, yellow is turning to peach colored sky
I let go of all the unknown and release myself from.asking why
Because what I see in front of me is a miraculous formation of peace
To be still in this moment, where hope will never cease
Heidi Sands
9/19/24
(C)opyright
She slipped clumsily in a
café
Looked all around her
from the corner of her
eye
Felt all eyes upon her
Bit her lip
and flushed crimson
disconcertedly.
He was sacked, literally
fired
Got down in the dumps
Was down and out
and was left feeling blue
so gloomily.
He gave her a blossomed
rose
Blood rushed to her
cheeks
She blushed a deep red
so joyously.
She watched her rival
from afar
Summed up her
envy in reflex
and she turned green
jealously.
It looked hale and hearty
Ooh the cherubic chubby
cheeks
Baby looked in the pink
as it babbled away
innocently.
She heard of a loved
one's demise.
That was a shock indeed
She went white as a
sheet
as she then wept so
woefully.
She saw a teeny-weeny
spider on her skirts
Talk of arachnids and
phobias, yikes!
She turned a pale yellow
in fright
as she screamed fearfully.
He found his sweetheart
in another man's arms
Doubted his own charms
and his face went purple
with rage
almost immediately.
He faced his lifelong
enemy
Hate brimmed up in him
as his bitterness found a
vent
He shot him a black glare
most scornfully
well well, it might seem
that the worst of all the
human hues
are the melancholic
depressing blues
But I think being green
for jealousy
and the black of hate
top the list in deserving
poohs.
Mind you these human
pigmentation of emotion
are a matter of reflex
for you can't choose
which of the human hues
you'd like to wear, on
party day
and which you'd rather
not use.
Spring II
Spring! Fast changing Season of fickle mood,
Hesitant sun and sharp, fleeting showers
When life stirs from Winter’s long solitude,
Aroused by these lengthening daylight hours.
Now, when the Season turns and Winter spent,
Sudden colour blossoms on budding trees.
The daffodil blooms and young Spring’s sweet scent
Is gentle carried on the evening breeze.
Migrating birds return on sun warmed wings
And the regal swan sails to summer nest.
As nights shorten and the first Cuckoo sings
And the honey bee wakes from Winter rest,
By shaded wood the pale yellow primrose
Shows and all around Nature’s beauty grows.
8/03/17
A pale yellow and orange blanket envelops the fields
The stillness is paralyzing in the most peaceful of ways
The cool, crisp air makes a late summer feel like an early onset of winter
The time can fool you on the seasons
This is where the world stops spinning
Light years away from the bustle of the city
With the rolling hills and stoic trees
Somewhere nearby the horses graze and the chickens cluck
The plump carrots, shiny bell peppers, and blushing tomatoes sprout from their busy plot
The sun pokes its head out as Helios does his daily work
And the critters whisper in the distance before the cars start to rattle the country roads
This is the moment where the gears start spinning and the universe opens up
It all starts here up on the hilltop
In the most delicate of times, you can stand here and make sure life doesn't pass you by
If you ever need a reset or the smallest dose of love
Stand amongst the quiet masses at the earliest of hours
It will all come together, my friend, have no fear
The sun will always rise and the fences will stand
Hold onto your heart and let the morning dew take you in
The rest will seem easier from here on out; just wait now, just a little for the day to carry on
The rest will be a breeze, and your challenges will melt
When you feel swallowed up you can always visit again at dawn
Your troubles may feel everlasting
But so is the warm embrace of this enchanting time and place
pale yellow shards of brittle glass
shatter under my feet
as I stroll along this grey patchwork of concrete
and if the world stutters precarious on its spurious axis,
I pay it no mind
the ice of my pupils melts into inky lashes
that bleed cold down my face
and in my head,
I conjure a universe where
every contradiction, every illusion you did not believe in this one
becomes a reality
all around me,
there are people breathing autumn air who know the art of exhaling
their throats don’t choke, and their tongues don’t freeze
at the thought of forgetting the taste
and that is what I remember hope to be
the galaxies and supernovas and black holes in my chest-
I am tired of their weight
it’s too much for a person, and I am just half of one
so I tell myself it’s not selfish
to fall to frail knees on a faded sidewalk
to double over in searing throes
and give up on starry eyes,
even if it is their memory
that dusts begotten leaves
their golden brown edges crumble into goodbyes
under callous feet
Dewdrops stream down boisterous
children’s freckle-strewn mischievous dials,
as they dash in cartoon costume faux denim
apparel amidst the pale yellow sunlight glare.
Marble stone button twiddle on a blue
rinse wrinkle t-shirt,
Sumptuous ice cream raspberry blobs
tantalise the cheeky taste bud imps
whose chocolate brown eyes swell with
every morsel glutinously gorged on.
Doting parents wantonly indulge
their dawn glow
offspring’s shrieks of antic wonderment,
the honeysuckle fragrance that
releases germ-stuffed
nostrils a portentous spring nectar booster
shot for folk and kin alike,
effervescent yodel from young sibling and the
young at heart zeal of golden realm guardians
elevated to this neon sign paradise,
purple sleeve lacquer layer hydrant, surreal spirit saviour
of parched embryonic throats.
Picklock to that universal perfume
cloud that hovers
over asphalt stain urn and
stoic mint green
pristine luscious lawn,
playground for the butterfly wing vernal innocent shrouded by an orange peel citric soft fruit haze.
Age span infant euphoric zoom on fountain spume,
where families in a Ferris wheel hubub rejuvenate the
lacklustre greyness of their far too often
monochrome existence.
Posted ; 4th May 2022
The curtain in my room is pale yellow,
With unique embroidered golden leaves on it,
My mother lived in this room for a little while,
And unknowingly left a bit of her,
for ever!
She told me, she loved the curtain.
Waking up at the first light of ruby dawn,
When sky is mesmerizing with shades of vermilion,
She used to gaze at the enthralling golden leaves,
And ponder about every one she cherished in her life,
Each enigmatic leaf reminded her
Of each of her beloved ones.
She prayed for them,
With inimitable tenderness, whispering,
Uttering each and every name,
Each and every person precious in her life,
And in the end,
The names were countless!
The Yellow Curtain still hangs there.
May 23, 2020
FIRST PLACE - In Loving Memory Contest
Sponsor: Regina Riddle
FIRST PLACE
"Mother" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
"The Throwback Challenge" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Natasha L. Scragg
SECOND PLACE
Featured Poem: April 12, 2021
I wrote this poem after my mother came to visit me in Canada, and stayed for a few months. I used to see her praying every morning, and one day she told me about the embroidered flowers on the curtain. This is the second poem I wrote in my life - the first one is "Dreams" (posted as first on Soup Page) - after I lost my mother, and knew she would never come back to that room. This was the beginning of my poetic journey. I realized, Poetry was my path.
24 seven,
Eight,
Nine,
Ten to the second.
Heaven ate my pancreas,
Please pretend eleven likes me.
Twelve times its elapsed,
Survival wasn’t even likely.
Shelved minds,
And a brain collapsed,
He forgot the old me.
Thirteen days in hells binds,
Sustained damage behind waxed out eyes,
“Can he even see me?”
There’s a bird who abides by a tree,
And he sings tenderly just for me.
Without a word he refines his tune elegantly,
His voice rings out slenderly,
Just for me.
Just for me and my memories.
Chaotic verses full of life and energy,
Carefree expressions of a bird so elderly.
I’ll just bathe in this melody,
The critter could render thee so happily.
For the rest of my days,
True,
True,
True.
Sure I know the skies are blue,
But the sun’s a pale yellow,
And the tree shades me from reality's hue.
I feel my blissful ignorance is long overdue,
My sails cast open,
And the winds bellow on through.
This’ll take me across the vast ocean blue,
And even when my spirit is broken,
That old bird's gale will bid my blues adieu.
I’ll miss him too,
Assuming he missed me in lieu.
I’m either a ‘to-nowhere’ travelling magician,
Or just a square average citizen.
Because what’s a square without his ritalin,
A nowhere man,
Deaf, dumb and blind,
Your average pity city civilian.