Short Polychromatic Poems
Short Polychromatic Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Polychromatic by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Polychromatic by length and keyword.
She had gorgeous polychromatic hair
Slapped her clothes together without much care
Checkered, speckled, polka dotted too
She was all about comfort, my girl Sue
Bloom in early morn,
polychrome bells twist on vine.
Bright sun brings your show.
synapses continued their neuronal junction
long after the seed’s path had been planted
the miracle proceeded in mind and mindfulness
as the journey became her labour of love
prismatic eyes shone once again in a mirror
polychromatic and full of compassion and trust
'Tis so, I adore a polychromatic Muse.
She's a plethora of jolly dramatic hues.
Not to bore yuh surely with rant sophomoric,
But her aura is purely phantasmagoric.
I hear people ask, “Am I her signif other?"
But fear she might see me as only a brother.
It is quite fantabulous and those sorts of things;
So we, the two of us, will be looking at rings.
Unimaginable beauty:
I found myself walking alone
far removed from humanity
in a large meadow overgrown
with kaleidoscopic poppies:
oranges, blues, crimsons and yellows
each indiscriminately
commingled in this meadow
like an incongruous painting;
yet, in my eyes, a masterpiece:
A polychromatic blending
of hues quivering in the breeze
as I stood amidst the allure
of their stupefying grandeur.
Skin transformed to silver beneath the sweep of leaves,
Peach and nitrate in the moon glow and the shaven silhouette;
Filtered through the branches, latticed on her breast,
Polychromatic prisms corralled in pin-prick beads of sweat.
Summer heat and darkness enticed us ever closer,
Bathed in pallid moonbeams and stardust memories;
Laying down together, we as one upon the soil,
And the heavens smiled upon us as we dreamed beneath the trees...
Everyone sees color differently
some color-blind
yet they know the texture and
warmth of shades, bland
grays more a product of heart
and not one’s eyes –
not all black and white, coldly set,
appealing only a stark contrast
some light embracing its
fine-line shadows
as midnights with stars and
moon in warmth of touch –
meet me in the polychromatic
moment, where all spectrum
shards of color im-prismed
are released, forever to unveil a
harmony unbreached….
Life’s mélange of motifs fades
as time’s wheel turns on the last lap.
Tangled hues of memory spectrum converge
while the spider crawls on the senile face.
I haven’t closed my eyes on the magic mirror.
Kaleidoscopic snapshots.
Show of polychromatic pictures;
entranced reflection flickers in the glint of eyes.
As cobweb contours the sanguine face
corridors to the past converge in nothingness.
Yonder haze shrouds the last mile trail;
twilight tinges life’s frail lattice.