Short Reddish Brown Poems

bloody bathroom water 
reddish brown water in my sink
again...

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your frowning with love
Maple leaves change reddish brown
Under-running Spring...

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Unfolding your 
Paper mache wings
Greeting this
Reddish brown
Mahogany wind 
Yes, sweeping 
These golden leaves, 
Swirling you, again
Around this 
Pink carousel...

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.

    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...

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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....

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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....

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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.
...

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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...

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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....

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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"...

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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...

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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...

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