Long Yellow Poems
Long Yellow Poems. Below are the most popular long Yellow by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Yellow poems by poem length and keyword.
Rainbow faeries in the sky, painting furiously and fabulously
God’s magic in the hands of the mystics.
His glorious red, representing our life’s blood
after it hits oxygen. Showing nature her full beauty
in the scarlet coneflowers and crisp crimson strawberries.
Flat out showing off in tomatoes.
Rainbow faeries in the sky, hurrying before we catch them.
God’s colors in their nimble hands.
His glorious orange, making us feel optimistic,
throwing a laugh into the rainbow, bringing a sense of play.
Orange, my favorite color, which is shown in
butterflies and marigolds, a sense of whimsy and fun.
Rainbow faeries in the sky, racing toward their favorite color.
The color of the sun, showing their full out yellow, which
gives enthusiasm and joy to the rainbow, softening the
other colors, acting as a beautiful companion, cheering them
all on with an exuberant happy cheer.
Rainbow faeries in the sky, settling down with calming green.
Throwing it in sparingly, as it is already in every meadow,
forest and field. The ultimate color that slows us down, allowing
our breathing to calm us, making us feel nurtured and a part
of nature.
Rainbow faeries gladly adding a touch of blue, the color of
sky and sea, the color that takes our eyes to heaven, and helps
us remember we are here to love each other, showing us compassion and empathy, giving us peace.
Tell me winter jasmine dear,
why did the sun disappear,
and leave me all alone, here?
I am heartbroken and cold,
as I grow sad, feeble and old,
with no one to love and hold.
The world became desolate.
My heart is filled with such regret.
My flower's gone. I can't forget.
Yes, I'm winter jasmine, friend.
Your life is not at an end.
I to you, my heart extend,
and together we'll transcend.
I bloom in the winter to
help my mates to make it through.
Do you like my yellow hue?
I blossom just for you.
Look at what the future brings.
My flower always welcomes Springs.
I will pluck on your heartstrings,
until your spirit thaws and sings.
She twirls round and round,
In her yellow princess gown,
Her eyes all aglow with delight.
On her head sits a crown,
Plastic jewels all around,
A charming, adorable sight.
"Papa, dance!", she demands,
And he gladly takes her hands,
Twirling her around the floor.
Her laughter resounds,
And her joy knows no bounds,
As she cries out, "More, Papa, more!"
He tosses her high,
Bringing squeals and a cry,
As he catches her in his strong arms.
She smiles into his eyes,
Her love not disguised,
And he marvels at her innocent charm.
The little princess, now danced out,
Is fast asleep on the couch,
Dreaming of tea parties and such.
Without making a peep,
Her Papa watches her sleep.
He loves his little princess so much.
9/22/13
Written about my 2 yr old cousin Olivia and her Grandpa (Papa) Porter.
For PD's Any poem #5 contest
Candy corn! Candy corn!
I want nothing else in my Halloween bag
but mounds of candy corn!
I could Trick or Treat all night
and then stay out until the morn,
but nothing screams Halloween to me
like a sack full of candy corn.
I marvel at its yellow cap,
followed by orange and its tip of white
and if I didn't get candy corn in my bag,
it would have been just a fruitless night.
And a ghost could try to scare me
and I wouldn't jump one bit,
but if I didn't get my candy corn,
I'd be frightened out of my wits.
A witch could put a spell on me
and then go flying into the sky.
Or a black cat could cross my path a hundred times
and I wouldn't blink an eye.
An owl could hoot in my ear until dawn
and I wouldn't hear a peep.
But if I didn't get candy corn in my bag,
I wouldn't be able to sleep.
A bat could hover over my head
and a vulture circle nearby.
A gaggle of goblins could follow me home
and the man in the moon could wink his eye.
A skeleton could tap me on the shoulder
and it would scarcely cause a fright,
but as long as I have candy corn in my bag
I'm the happiest soul on Halloween night.
copyright © 2019 Gregory Firlotte
Rejection chain reaction
New Born Male Child
A babe suffering during while
A Mother who wanted her son to die
Heaven’s intervention rise
The new born experienced Asthma, Yellow Jaundice and Malnutrition
The birth weight way below normal circumstances
Life surrounding was uncertain
Doctors are given up hope
Assurance was no cope
Doctors calculated that the babe will only live to 7 in longevity
They told the family to prepare for a funeral and not become attached, but if I lived on it would be God’s will
The Doctors suggested that I put in a Foster Home, but my Grandparents stepped in
Foster Home ruled out
Fast forward through the years, the babe grew up to a teenager of 17 and beyond
The Male teenager spend many weekends with his mother who didn’t want him
The Mother often said she wanted a Girl
No fault on my part, I just became the end product what God wanted me to be
She would cuss and chastise the son for no apparent reason
It was always criticism and negativity that came from the mother to the son
There was definitely a wall of a barrier between the mother and son with love nowhere to be found
The son was blamed for his mother not marrying the internal father
How does a child who didn’t ask to be born being the problem?
The Yellow Jaundice had changed the pigmentation of skin to Caucasian, but that was only briefly when I was born
To this day, the son feels no love and doesn’t extend love to his mother
There used to be a lot of anger and bitterness, but since has been released
Carrying plenty of tension throughout the years
The son prayed to the Lord in honesty in stating he didn’t love his mother
The Lord’s response, “Just respect her”
There were times the son hated himself thinking it was a mistake in him being born
There was even a thought of suicide attempt
A Mother who is not even proud of what her son who is independent, Graduated from college and Self-Alliant has become
The son will always believe a mother wanted to kill her son while she was barring with all her smoking, and stated quote “I would of had an abortion done when abortions weren’t even heard of back then
Yet, a son who is ever proud and achieved greatness in life under the Lord’s eyes.
Oupa Dean ! With Him she brushed shoulders, forty years ago,
on a rainy twilight down Adderley Street caressing yellow freesias,
bought by her late tea date.
Flower sellers on The Parade delighted with sale.
Mind flashed an evening recall three centuries
earlier, same TwinSoul promenading down Rue des
Iris soon after the 1636 French-Spanish conflict, her name then, Amoré.
Moon-Tears rained French defeat on street,
lamps casting moist shadows across black hats
~ Realities flow into one another, clutching yellow freesias.
Push-ups
A lyric/acrostic ~> an acrolic
The rules to this acrolic is to rhyme the same way in verses 1 and 2, then the bridge does its own rhyming scheme. V.1 and pre-chorus is considered an acrostic and v.2 and pre-chorus is also considered an acrostic. The rest of the poem (the bridge) is the first syllable of the word in acrostic form.
V.1: P- Plenty of sunshine, come what May
U- Understand that I’m tired of liberal-conservative politics
S- Shame on me for saying it today
H- Hanging out with the buddies without taking any selfie pics
Pre-chorus: U- Underestimated by scars and shown to be happy
P- Pretty much, I’m appalled by the stars and so free
S- So free, clean and sober from my addiction of painstaking infliction
Chorus: P- Pleasure-embarked
U- Under
S- So much
H- Hushed pressure
U- Understand my ups and downs
P- Please
S- Show me the way
V.2: P- Pain and shame, I can wish it away
U- Unless I pray it wouldn’t affect me — six times six
S- Shameless and sheltered today
H- Not feeling a seven times seven, but I need a fix
Pre-chorus: U- Underestimated by scars and shown to be happy
P- Pretty much, I’m appalled by the stars and so free
S- So free, clean and sober from my addiction of painstaking infliction
Chorus: P- Pleasure-whelmed
U- Under
S- So much
H- Hushed pressure
U- Understand my ups and downs
P- Please
S- Show me the way
B: P- Plenty of room to push yourself forward, feeling mellow
U- Usage of peace would be necessary
S- Shine on and on like a tranquillity bird, shimmering yellow
H- Honoring myself, paying homage freely
For Eric Clapton
One day a friend asked
if a single note
struck by his hand
could make someone cry.
Yesterday I watched a video
of him in concert, his life
played out in a progressions
of riffs and chords as his life
played out on stage and the light
shown upon him.
I call it passion.
I call it love.
Blue lights, red lights, yellow.
O how he has lived beyond
the worst times of his life.
I admit I’ve lived hard times, too,
And to this day I admit
I look for his song.
Outside my window
a leaf turned color
falls to the ground—
and the year passes with a whisper.
The housecat sits at the top
of the stairs, while downstairs
someone stirs, but lyrics run
through my head, such passion.
My mind’s eye sees the faces
of women I loved. I’m left
with unfinished conversations.
Written: June 18, 2023
In the realm of boundless emotions,
Where words weave their tales,
I'll pen a poem with utmost devotion,
To enthrall minds while in a sail.
Only fear, a fleeting notion,
On that day of departure, you did sway.
Leaving a missing family in motion
In search of dreams, hearts tend to display
But fear, my dear, no one can define
The courage within you is so divine.
I described you to the angels above,
A soul so vibrant, the spirit of a dove,
The pink of love, a guiding light,
The yellow of hope shines through.
The white of purity is always true.
In the realm of boundless emotions,
I couldn’t select just one color.
Life's canvas is vast and grand,
In every hue, a tale to discover,
A symphony of shades, hand in hand.
In crimson hues, Wisdom flame ignites.
A tapestry of knowledge, a vibrant sight
From ancient scrolls to modern books,
The red ink spills, inviting curious looks.
(5-21-26 For "Snapshots of a Night Scene" Contest Sponsor - Nette Onclaud)
Dusk slowly approaches, as their energy finally begins to wane. Half flat soccer balls
speedily sent down a grassless, asphalt field by crooked, knobby sticks.
Stubby chunks of chalk - pink, yellow, blue, white. Hopscotch squares already fading
Frayed jump ropes swinging up, around, and down,
their satisfying soft smacks on the ground, keeping rhythm.
Delighted squeals of joy, laughter, calling out of names to friends, classmates, neighbors, siblings...
Somehow, this view left me remembering
my days of young, pondering the timeless satisfactions and yearnings of youth.
Gentle raindrops begin to splat red and orange leaves, partially painted the weed-lined pavement
Small shadows scatter and go wherever it is they go when the night sets in.