Short Orangey Poems
Short Orangey Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Orangey by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Orangey by length and keyword.
The sunset bids
quick goodbye.
It leaves behind
Orangey-red days,
Light-grey shadows
That slowly dip into one's mind.
baby star heralds
hail dawning gild glimmering
aloof flora wakes
leaves billow parting top wisp
breath orangey-red's farewell
Orangey,
burnt almond hues
color
the horizon;
as Sol's chariot
like a spent
ember,
glows amber;
inking
infinite
ice crystals
with a coppery
terracotta ocher;
as
it arches and sets.
Butterfly bushes
And apple blossoms
Sparkling garden art
Red wheelbarrow
Six purple iris
Pretty garden
Aromatic
Color alive
Bees and wasps fly
Deer visits
Cardinals too
Marigolds
Tasty
Orangey
flowers
Marmalade jar
As morning shine
Sweet MOM
Your heart is honey
Mom
Marmalade jar
As the orangey
Sun u make
The dark Vanish
Mom
Marmalade jar
In the heart
Mom
As the mind
Too mom
The world
I witness
Through your heart
Mom
Marmalade Jar
Marmalade Jar
Orangey hues sifting through leaves.
Persimmon, peach, pumpkin I believe.
Blackened before the glow, tree branches and ends.
Through crystal panes, the shadows descend.
Scarcely enough to ignite the sky.
Day becoming night, as the Sun bids goodbye.
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*Image of Lady Bug by Pixabay.
IHO We Ladybugs Who Started It
(Gender-Neutral)
My dearest ladybird,
with your orangey shield,
protecting your body when stirred,
as the creatures who languish after you,
their piquant beckons skill to wield.
Becalm, I'm not afeared ...
misterbird flew revealed.
2021 July 17
e.g., Julyme
RhymeScheme; abacbab
Structured Lines
Nice and luminous perspective
Nice and brightly coloured ancient village
Nice and inspiring stone houses
Nice and flowery alleys in that attractive place
Nice and enchanting land to visit
Nice and lovely countryside with orangey walls
Nice and daily crowded town
Nice and imaginary perspective!
@Rita Solis Radius. 20/2/2017. Octave poem “Nice Perspective”. All rights reserved.
Sweet mists of morning, and rose red mystery,
So much color all around, nothing is left to see,
Orangey mists of twilight, a tangerine surprise,
I can't see pearl stars, for beauty's in my eyes.
Golden mists of afternoon, hazy clouds in grass,
Pretty as a silken flower, though it will not last!
Deep purple midnight mists, so airy and dreamy,
Wafting in my gardens, in the moonlight creamy.
B. C. A Flame
----------------------------------------------
All day long, we are under this orb, orangey, pink in hue.
We see it through the ghosts, the essences we once knew.
Helios, on his voyage over this blanket of cremated life, flies.
Unfortunately, only he, not we, doth see beautiful blue skies
while we, under this monstrously heavy blanket of gray,
have yet been able to view a cloud or a clear blue sky day.
B . J .“ A ” 2
October 5th 2017
I watch the dancing flame
as it flutters all about.
Our only source of heat and light
since the lights went out.
It's orangey color and fury
tells prophecies of old.
Since the dawn of time it carries
all dark secrets left untold.
And when it spreads with rage
destroying all that's in its path,
it leaves you in the darkness
during the aftermath.
Its light shines for eternity
and to cease, it shall never.
The flame cries out from inside,
as it will forever.
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