Short Brownish Poems
Short Brownish Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Brownish by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Brownish by length and keyword.
did you ever wish to be a leaf?
that carried by the tree
soon enough falls
when you turned brownish and cold
innocents of night and morn
At 3
At 3 a
haughty handful of
mist helped continue to
grow in
density the
relationships among my
neurons (my neurons are
brownish-yellow).
Patches of white snow
Everywhere I look
Greenish, brownish grass
Is starting to show
A song from the Dove
In the early morn
Is a pleasant sound
As a new day is born
Once knew a chappie named Antonio
From his bum, brownish flowers did grow
A delightful appearance
Sold them for a pittance
Saved some to set his love's heart aglow
© Jack Ellison 2015
.
last supper in FALL -
trees of brownish orange, litter
the earth sweeps the ground
Beans, beans, the musical fruit, the more you eat, the more you toot
Embarrassing and uncontrollable as they come firing down the chute
Actually plays a tune
Remember “Blue Moon”
Cept the color is more brownish as they soil my suit
The color,
don't blush,
nor pay tax,
because is not
taxed ...
Nor It is an
offensive tackle,
not the color of sin ...
I do not intend to provoke
hustle and bustle, nor have
nothing with that ....
I'm totally free
and innocent ...
just parade others
brownish color,
tanned.they are
free, freely ...!
A purplish black dark sky night
Brushed the reddish moon with white
The sun has painted the sky with orangish hues
And tinted the stars of clarity with greenish blues
The yellowish new sun just minutes old
Has gild the moon a silverish gold
When all the brownish leaves turned gray
It rose a beautiful pinkish day
THE FLOWER THAT fails TO BLOOM--
...looking out into the garden;
seeing nothing but brownish hue;
petals wrinkled and misshapen;
What am I to do?
Broken steams...
Brownest bulbs and petals;
Burn a blazed withered summer swoon;
At the flower that fails to bloom;
7/15/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2019
A skin, bit rough, and brownish fair;
A rounded face and short black hair;
Fine vignettes on a wide forehead
that seems to think the ways ahead.
Cherry red lips, thick and pouty;
Two big ears, a nose that's humpy;
Big black eyes with flickery wink
seem to fathom the way you think.
Self portrait poetry contest
7th place
Brown skinned, short brownish hair
A female that is fare
Light brown eyes, small thighs
A lot of thought behind it
Pretty smile, petite shaped
No need to hesitate
A hundred and fifty eight pounds
Pretty enough to wear a crown
Sweet voice, plump limps
Makes you want to flip
Inner beauty, is easy to see
That only describes me
Form:
Steadily, the wine flows
And down a gullet goes;
Beside the bottle, tapping toes
Of Brown drowning his woes
And the brownish questions his foes
From plain mischief pose:
Every morning a repeated dose
That could ugly chapters close;
Its aroma a sport to his nose,
As his glass remains close…
The merrier with vodka than with his Rose…
white snow looking for
whispers of a maple leaf
chatting with your braid
the braid turns purple
asks you to move to fire place
the snow brownish black
look at the grey nights
heavy with the falling snow
maples distant dream
___________________
12 January, 2018
For Haiku, I Love You - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: James Edward Lee Sr.
How happy are orange carrots!
Are you upset by how colored they are?
Does it tear you apart to see the carrots so chromatic?
I cannot help but stop and look at brown walnuts.
Are you upset by how dark-brown they are?
Does it tear you apart to see the walnuts so brownish?
How happy is the wooly cantaloupe!
Never forget the soft and addled cantaloupe.
Do not Baa Baa,
you goddamned black sheep,
becuase you hardly look like a sheep,
I need not ask if you do have wool,
because they have scraped it all you fool,
Need not even wonder,
because you ugly brownish goat like sheep,
you have no master or dame,
or even a little boy across the lane,
they are all wailing,
looking at your reduced frame that is lame.
Many trees are gathered together as a water summit appeared through the sky
Bluish purple mountains popping up into the sky as the ocean is crashing into
the sand
Salty water caught my tongue came though as a fresh ocean smell
Purplish pink seashell in my hand so soft and smooth as a eroded rock
Though the brownish trees feels like sharp pointy glass
Form:
the back of my hands are spotted
with brownish red splotches and dashes
they are as wrinkly as a Chinese dog
blue veins are popping up in ugliness
so this is why old women wear gloves!
the same reason they wear scarves around their turkey necks
I was never prepared to get this old
did not realize it was a possibility
until I began wearing my grandmother’s hands
The Skylark
Brownish plumage sings,
Hovering its wings,
As high as could gaze an eye,
In hush of dawn, sings,
Hope and joy it brings,
Skylark would take flight in sky!
Sings no melody,
Yet best parody,
Freedom, a no to despair,
Inspires sun to rise,
Nature gets so wise,
Fun and frolic in the air !
Written on 28/7/14
For Dr Ram's contest
The Alouetee
Ranked 3rd
Be it wedding, Christmas,
birth or Easter - this sweet,
brownish multi-layered
bibik's prepared with a
batter of flour, sugar,
butter (clarified) - the
best dessert of Goa.
-------------------
16.12.16
Form: Pleiades
More information about this Indian dessert can be got using the following link -
http://ifood.tv/indian/bebinca/about
Basically,
bashful
brownish
brazen
bugs
besotted
by
bubbling
blood
browse
between
bedsheets…
best
brief:
better
banish
before
bedtime;
beware
body
bites!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Contest: Tautogram Poems
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Placed 3rd
© 26th October 2019
Green the nature beauty
To decorated with colourful flowers
Under the blue sky
With golden rays of sunlight
Lovely birds twittering
On a brownish tree
Makes them happy.
Blue waves with sound of nature
Over the white sand
Created with immense beauty.
Roses with rose
Spreading with fragrance
Colourfull butterflies flying
All these makes Mother Earth beautiful
With the magic of colourful world.
Who is it I see
In the mirror today?
Who is that lady
With hair of gray?
Who is that woman
With wrinkly skin
And brownish spots
And a double chin?
It’s surely not I –
It must be a joke!
Perhaps I’ve dreamt
And haven’t awoke!
For I look young
And smooth of skin.
I’m clear of eye
And certainly thin!
So who’s that lady
Whose image I see?
Of one thing I’m certain –
It isn’t me!
Cardinals swoop in
Snatching tiny crunchy stars
Up in their beaks
Those little brownish red stars
Must be tasty I think
But I am not going to try them
Robin appears next
Gives me a careful scolding
Snatches one up and gives me her tail.
The cat and I look at each other.
It’s your foot I tell her
Goading her.
Shark makes his way
Toward a fat blue jay
Who has just flown in for a bit of kibble.
A rose perched itself on an,
Open window still.
Placed by the fractured hands, of a lover whose bitter lips,
Turned sweet by the first glance of its crimson petals,
Yet the rose slowly decayed.
Decayed and flew out the window and onto the snow,
Where it gently laid and bleeds out a brownish crimson color.
Forming a shackled heart onto the snow,
The once rusting petals turn a pure white and decore this shackled heart.
A living creature
Green, brownish in colour
Giving a cool vibe to the atmosphere
Humans can’t live without me
I have roots that are stronger in soil
I have attachment issues
I can’t move
I wish sometimes
I was a bird or a moving creature
So that I can move and explore new things
I should be happy with the life I have
Maybe in next life
I wish to be a human
Even though I have given shade to many travellers daily.