An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Uno i - Dense Hues Cries, calls and howls All the vibrancy between. Greens, golds, tall browns, Deep shades, united leaves.
By liam sutherland5 years ago in Poets
Out my window Soldiers march It was almost if I saw them Elementary colors playing in the wind What made it gold Rows of run off streams
By elementary color5 years ago in Poets
Light’s Aptitude I was his coral, and he was my emerald. Since I was always using colors to describe something, One day my friend said to me that I was like a box of Crayola crayons.
By Ava Spolec5 years ago in Poets
Color is to me what lyrics are to instrumentals. Its the constituent in life that makes it all life whole. From the viridian fields flooded with orange daisies, that seem to set the greenery ablaze in a magnificent and perplexing way.
By KingAces5 years ago in Poets
The same red that trickles from a scraped knee when I’ve fallen off my bicycle. Down it drips, and I wish I’d shaved my legs. It’ll be all caked down
By Jay Hurteau5 years ago in Poets
Black, it's the color of my skin That represents the end, but to me it only begins As life starts anew like a morning filled with dew
By Bishop Colding5 years ago in Poets
I pause before a kairos moment, To see what colors belong to the eye: all of them, yet none at all. Open and attentive, we receive,
By J W Knopf5 years ago in Poets
'Run' by Luke Paraman Waking each day to a new dream Still unsure what I'm meant to do Blissfully lost Blue like the eyes of a boy I once knew
By Luke Paraman5 years ago in Poets
The warm rays of the sun shoot through the endless halls of space, pierce the atmosphere Kiss my skin. In a meditative state
By Kasidy Jean5 years ago in Poets
Star I feel my cranium drift in a haze. By reaching for Saturn, I lose my touch. The white rabbit’s red eyes betrayed his face
By Scarlett weisskopf5 years ago in Poets
Those poppies in my garden weren't quite burnt orange and they'd rather be dead than called blood red. Those poppies in my garden
By Lauren Udwari5 years ago in Poets
A curio shop’s notebook, Cased in forest green. An impulse: Storage for the field’s discoveries. Dull pencil, thick white paper.
By Olivia L. Dobbs5 years ago in Poets
