Long Pastel Poems
Long Pastel Poems. Below are the most popular long Pastel by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pastel poems by poem length and keyword.
In pitch black night there is no color,
For light is color's revealer.
In daylight, your eyes see an object as white, when all light is reflected,
White is all the colors from a billion rainbows, melded.
White light, dissected by raindrops, prisms and kaleidoscope
reveals the full spectrum of colors within.
Light is the palette array from which objectors choose what to reflect.
You see black, the absence of color, when no light is reflected,
You see grey, when only a wee little light is reflected.
You see red when all other colors from white light
hitting a surface are absorbed, except red, that is.
The objects and being out there, display the color they choose to portray,
by excluding all other colors, sucking them in.
Color is what distinguishes the objects and shapes
we see with our eyes, including white, black and greys.
The scene we see is an orchestration of color painted upon.
In Nature it's the array colors in the blue sky, white clouds,
green trees, black cat, white dog, and brown dirt outside.
Inside it's the brown door, blue painted walls, green drapes and decorations
In art and paintings it's the colors of pigments in paint
the artist chooses to use and mix together, whatever their source and composition.
In poems and writing it's the words chosen to create images
of the colors of nature, people and objects in the minds of readers.
And moreover, it's the moods, feelings and emotions
portrayed with colors, bold, pastel, stark and soft.
Color creates dilemmas and puzzles for users.
To a scientist its wavelength and spectrum.
To a chemist is clays, rocks, extracts, mineral and vegetable dyes.
To a decorator or house painter its charts, sample pots and mixed tins.
To an artist its what can be squeezed from pots and tubes and dabbed on canvas.
To a poet its words to create fleeting images of color, emotions, feelings and impressions
in the minds of readers.
The kaleidoscope of color is the milieu of everything perceived in the light of day,
through vision, thought, feelings and soulful emotions.
Libidinous pleasures soar on sensuous lips
Red as her favorite flowing dress, licentious as she is
Bright eyes of wonder launched with a glowing smile
Blushing cheeks turn pink reflecting on our longevity together
Serene skies remember everything of the pastel past
Sings of beauties pleasures soft as fairy wings back there
There is much more to love than simple kisses in history
Passions build beguiling, flavors of rainbows colored age
Secrets safe with our caresses, borrowed softly on romances breeze
While daisies dance above the world, subtle as a virgins skin
Arm in arm we fall beneath green grasses hidden
Picnics are enhanced with red wine and cake
And loves embrace never satiated
My lovers splendor comes on a gentle touch that we call love
Created and Entered -The Colors Of Love poetry contest on 6/7/16 - Sponsored by: Casarah Nance
as my torso
slipped past
pastel waterlilies,
I noticed with a start
a light glinting
off each petal,
then smearing
it in rainbows
of threads
it was as if,
water dimensions
were letting me
slip through,
and peek
illusions took hold
and as each shimmer
turned into a memory,
I immersed,
and waterfall-ed
without doubt
I swam through
sadness, thick swamps
hiding horrors
and joy streams
trickling playfully
with the laughter
of life
sickness stopped
everything,
and all is damned
thrice,
and the health
of a bubbling brook
spoke to me
in whispers
but as I swum into
a crystal sea,
I watched
all memory merging
into who we had become,
and how our memories
helped shape us …
in my own reminisce
I had forgotten
every memory
is shared,
and stored
in the river
of time
that I now float,
in a papyrus boat
The first rays of dawn bring a garnish of warm soft hues
that coat the meadow in a glistening mantle
as we journey on beckoning spiraling slopes of fallen dew
to see the sunrise from the highest hill
as lovers do
With tender fingers securely enveloped in joyous wonder
like an oyster shell protecting the rarest pearl
found in the emotional depth of serenity and wondrous beauty
when a red pastel sky turns a rich velvet blue
Inviting us to soar like birds on delicate wings of imagination
and endlessly float on love's sweet fragrant breath
Yearning to paint a thousand pictures
rendered by love's artistic hands
framed by the hunger of our desire
When beneath the sun's splayed light, we kissed
becoming tethered by love's silent capture
regaled by the morning's mist
to feel the world melt away in solemn grace
where time is forever still from the sighing moment of our surrender
as truth becomes unspoken
and love frees the soul's jeweled reflections
glimmering in the farthest realms of the eyes
shinning bright as a wishful sense of shared awe
11/22/20
[Inspired by the melody: 'Pastel Reflections' by Kevin Kern]
www.last.fm/music/Kevin Kern/_/Pastel ReflectionsCached
[A 25 sec introduction precedes the Lyrics.]
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I called out your name, but I got no answer.
You had gone away without a word; no reason why.
I called out your name; echoes filled the cold deserted rooms
and the silence I could not bear.
Time has now gone by, yet I can not forget nor give up.
I live in hope that you will come back to me.
Always in my heart there is a place reserved just for you.
Do not let my tears flow down in vain.
I called out your name. In my mind I saw you
in a swirling mist of hazy blue, beyond my reach.
I called out your name to the wind that blew in restless nights
and I wondered where you could be.
Time has now gone by, yet I can not forget nor give up.
I live in hope that you will come back to me.
Always in my heart there is a place reserved just for you.
Do not let my tears flow down in vain.
I called out your name to the stars above me;
to the rolling sea where secrets hide among the waves.
I called out your name as I sat alone and longed for you
and the silence I could not bear.
I still call your name
as I live in hope.
Life is not the same
since you went away.
I call your name.
-------------------------------
Contest: Pastel Reflections
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
As fuchsia clouds caress a saffron sky,
like pastel pillows in the eventide
and bid this weary winter day goodbye,
I sit alone and ponder dreams applied,
and ask myself if always best I tried.
The dreams in life which slowly drift on by,
like fashioned floats parading ‘fore our eyes
and calling us to grab them from the sky,
are reaching out and tempting with their plies
to jump aboard their float and claim our prize.
For me the dreams which loudest called my name,
the ones to which I gladly answered call
to join parade of dreams and claim my fame,
have shaped my life and left me standing tall
when all of life seemed backed against a wall.
But sometimes I still think of dreams gone by,
the ones to which I turned my back and passed;
can’t help but wonder with an aging sigh
just how my journey might have been recast
if had I chosen different dreams amassed.
Yet as I ponder with each passing day
and think of all the dreams in which I played,
I know for certain one thing I must say
there’s nothing I would change in judgements made
as aging sun now sets on my parade.
August 25, 2023
........ of the day
we see magic display,
as sun burns through thin haze,
the horizon ablaze.
A veil of low stratus
and high silver cirrus
give a cool morning hue
against sky of deep blue.
Silver turns into gold,
drives out morning cold.
Now clouds start to converge
and their frayed edges merge.
In wispy formation
new colour creation
with pale shades of pastel
so soft and so subtle.
Some peach turns to pink
but is gone in a blink.
Then thick cumulus stack
and clump to white flock
that reflects the sun's rays
in a rich amber blaze.
Thus begins our new day
with a sunrise display.
In the lines of your quarried face
are granite truths and pastel mysteries
part-time jester - full-time thief of hearts
doubting the existence of great gifts,
tears in the fabric of self-worth.
In the violet crag of your word,
the echoes of a billion wizened steps.
Sunflower soul - harboring underground seeds.
Lightning bolt anger marbled with hummingbird heartbeats.
A moth-dusted soul seeking something ocean blue deep.
Something more than shallow phrases and rat-nibbled deeds.
You're a parched rose praying for thundercloud attention.
Yearning for a different flavor of strength.
A heart minted with the firmament of God.
To know for certain that angels tend to your day.
From your ruby colored throat, there are gentle night songs
and the hooves of tragedies approaching.
My mom lets me roller skate in the house, the new boy said.
Liar! I thought, but I kept it to myself.
She lets me paint murals on the walls of my room, he added.
You are a fibbing fool I thought, but I did not call him on it.
My mom lets me swear upside one wall and down another.
I watch for his nose to grow, not realizing most of this was true.
I thought all Mom-rules were the same.
But when I became a mother,
I attached swings to the rafters of the basement
so my children could swing inside.
I also let them skate in the basement for it had a smooth cement floor.
When my daughter was thirteen, I let her paint murals all over her room.
Figuring she could not do a lot of damage with the approved pastel paints.
Not realizing her best friend had sneaked in a can of black.
Mistake.
We drift softly together- -
hands glazing a window filled with stars
where row of flora bends its twirling hips
and curtains lift the fabric of breath,
until we become twinsouls in August's hours
that bless the garden of devotion...
and in the stillness of dusk
when all blossoms turn to virtues
deepening the fragrance of the sky,
we will find each other in a cradle
of one rose in the glade--
as a breeze disrobes our pores
stirring the ember of fireflies blazed,
that even moonglow crowns our love
amidst the glimmer of jovial kisses
undefined by any name, while we,
in a bright pastel of August's rose,
together... drift softly.