Short Reddish Brown Poems
Short Reddish Brown Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Reddish Brown by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Reddish Brown by length and keyword.
Unfolding your
Paper mache wings
Greeting this
Reddish brown
Mahogany wind
Yes, sweeping
These golden leaves,
Swirling you, again
Around this
Pink carousel
bright red ~ reddish brown
my feeder is your buffet~
eat and sing thank you
bright is our color
fun and pretty feathered birds
call us cardinals
If sky must cloud, let it rain
vigorously. If trees must
sway, let them rustle in line
with heartbeat of a baby.
If summer must rust,
and rust must winter--
Let the reddish brown
rave for vernal air.
.
Shimmering
swaying
her hair to her
waist
the blond
the auburn
yes reddish brown
all glowing
With the purest of
thoughts
I have focused on
the grey
A path leads to a barn and green pasture,
behind which lies a reddish brown hill.
I imagine the trees thereon
as spies in fall’s bright disguise,
dispersed along the hill.
They silently stalk;
only at this
moment do
they stand
still.
Anywhere I go to, I am being rejected,
This filthy nature has made me dejected,
My body is all covered with conspicuous rust,
which is like raw metal ore from the earth crust,
People get scared not to get infected,
even though my face is not affected,
This reddish-brown skin has now become a stigma,
which has placed my dermatologist in a real dilemma.
God in all His majesty
gives us now His tenth great gift
of multifarious joys.
Ghostwinds whistle lilting tunes,
motivating dancing leaves
to make their scuttling noise.
Distant hills are masterpieces.
God, the Artist, planned the blend
of reddish brown and gold.
Mums and pumpkins fill their spots
in front-yard settings bright and bold.
In the land of eternity
At Elflame,
Where the nymphs lived
Grew a giant mahogany tree
Memories rely on its every leaf
Reddish-brown trunks,
Darkens over time
Silent witness of the elapsed days
Laughter and joy
Pain and sorrow
A complete life extravaganzas
That sealed by fate
In every rotation of seasons
Remain upright stand
Full of hopes and dreams
An old mahogany tree
Lost in Love
I see two people kissing.
I can’t see their faces.
I see the face of the woman.
She has long reddish brown hair and hazel eyes.
She’s thin.
I can’t see the face of the man.
He’s built but he is very muscular.
I see the man’s eyes, no it can’t be!
It is George and I don’t believe it.
He has got a lot of nerve.
He will never get away with this.
That’s a promise.
Candle lit quarters..
bearing colorful carpet...
and his wooden chair.
·
With a curved backrest,
of somber reddish-brown wood;
upholstered green straw.
·
and in his absence...
a lit candle takes his place:
...two modern novels.
·
Vincent paint’s his muse,
in consistent loneliness...
...waiting for Gauguin.
_________________________________
For Abe's Van Goh's of Van Gogh contest
the Painting is "Gauguin’s Chair"
So high! So high! You looked down on me.
We are the tallest trees on earth. My thick,
reddish-brown bark is resilient. Tourists
love to take photos of me. I love to connect
with other roots for stability, stay moisturized
with the coastal fog. You traveled above me
on a logger’s route, too far above my treetop.
I saw you staring down and wondered how.
If you’d have come closer, I could have showed
off my fairy rings, long branches and longevity.
I picked it up and let it run through
Reddish brown and so dry too
Then I stood and looked around
The long drought had cracked the ground
The wind blew the red dust up high
Into the clear blue azure sky
In the distance the sea rolled to the beach
As the sun blasted the sky out of reach
I love this land god given and grand
Sun drenched and hard in God’s plan
It may be wind blown and red
But I’ll always be a proud Australian born and bred.
© Paul Warren Poetry
UTERO HOLDER OF LIFE
Reddish brown hue
Holder of life
So easy to view
Beautiful
Mother’s hold held, life spoil
She stands tall, fertile
Legs sequoia
Woman mother of man
Releasing’s life’s blood
Eggs embryos
Down her limbs
Nurturer, mother of world
Red river life flows through
The womb monthly flows
Utero holder of life
9/3/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
"from LIFE DISCERN Anthology "
That Hundred-year-old rosewood door,
Imported from Brazil and hung before the civil war,
according to the local folklore,
It was a magnificent reddish brown wooden door.
That adorned the front of a liquor store.
An Old newspaper clipping humorously
describes the terrific uproar.
And the gore when a hundred local women or more
stormed that liquor store they were unhinged
when they ripped down that old rosewood door
After that day never more
did that liquor store open its door