Songs of the High Country
Soria, in blue mountains,
on the fields of violet,
how often I’ve dreamed of you
on the plain of flowers,
where the Guadalquiviŕ runs
past golden orange-trees
to the sea.
poem by Antonio Machado
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Related quotes
What Is Pink?
What is pink? a rose is pink
By the fountain's brink.
What is red? a poppy's red
In its barley bed.
What is blue? the sky is blue
Where the clouds float through.
What is white? a swan is white
Sailing in the light.
What is yellow? pears are yellow,
Rich and ripe and mellow.
What is green? the grass is green,
With small flowers between.
What is violet? clouds are violet
In the summer twilight.
What is orange? why, an orange,
Just an orange!
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Color
What is pink? a rose is pink
By a fountain's brink.
What is red? a poppy's red
In its barley bed.
What is blue? the sky is blue
Where the clouds float thro'.
What is white? a swan is white
Sailing in the light.
What is yellow? pears are yellow,
Rich and ripe and mellow.
What is green? the grass is green,
With small flowers between.
What is violet? clouds are violet
In the summer twilight.
What is orange? Why, an orange,
Just an orange!
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Fields of Soria
Hills of silver plate,
grey heights, dark red rocks
through which the Duero bends
its crossbow arc
round Soria, shadowed oaks,
stone dry-lands, naked mountains,
white roads and river poplars,
twilights of Soria, warlike and mystical,
today I feel, for you,
in my hearts depths, sadness,
sadness of love! Fields of Soria,
where it seems the stones have dreams,
you go with me! Hills of silver plate,
grey heights, dark red rocks.
poem by Antonio Machado
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Brighter Shone The Golden Shadows
Brighter shone the golden shadows;
On the cool wind softly came
The low, sweet tones of happy flowers,
Singing little Violet's name.
'Mong the green trees was it whispered,
And the bright waves bore it on
To the lonely forest flowers,
Where the glad news had not gone.
Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdom,
And his power to harm and blight.
Violet conquered, and his cold heart
Warmed with music, love, and light;
And his fair home, once so dreary,
Gay with lovely Elves and flowers,
Brought a joy that never faded
Through the long bright summer hours.
Thus, by Violet's magic power,
All dark shadows passed away,
And o'er the home of happy flowers
The golden light for ever lay.
Thus the Fairy mission ended,
And all Flower-Land was taught
The 'Power of Love,' by gentle deeds
That little Violet wrought.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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My Frost-King - Song II
Brighter shone the golden shadows;
On the cool wind softly came
The low, sweet tones of happy flowers,
Singing little Violet's name.
'Mong the green trees was it whispered,
And the bright waves bore it on
To the lonely forest flowers,
Where the glad news had not gone.
Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdom,
And his power to harm and blight.
Violet conquered, and his cold heart
Warmed with music, love, and light;
And his fair home, once so dreary,
Gay with lovely Elves and flowers,
Brought a joy that never faded
Through the long bright summer hours.
Thus, by Violet's magic power,
All dark shadows passed away,
And on the home of happy flowers
The golden light for ever lay.
Thus the Fairy mission ended,
And all Flower-Land was taught
The 'Power of Love,' by gentle deeds
That little Violet wrought.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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The Frost-King' Song II
Brighter shone the golden shadows;
On the cool wind softly came
The low, sweet tones of happy flowers,
Singing little Violet's name.
'Mong the green trees was it whispered,
And the bright waves bore it on
To the lonely forest flowers,
Where the glad news had not gone.
Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdom,
And his power to harm and blight.
Violet conquered, and his cold heart
Warmed with music, love, and light;
And his fair home, once so dreary,
Gay with lovely Elves and flowers,
Brought a joy that never faded
Through the long bright summer hours.
Thus, by Violet's magic power,
All dark shadows passed away,
And on the home of happy flowers
The golden light for ever lay.
Thus the Fairy mission ended,
And all Flower-Land was taught
The "Power of Love," by gentle deeds
That little Violet wrought.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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The Isle
There was a little lawny islet
By anemone and violet,
Like mosaic, paven:
And its roof was flowers and leaves
Which the summer’s breath enweaves,
Where nor sun nor showers nor breeze
Pierce the pines and tallest trees,
Each a gem engraven;--
Girt by many an azure wave
With which the clouds and mountains pave
A lake's blue chasm.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Sometimes I imagine
Sometimes I imagine
that my D Jacobs painting
of a red brown earth road
that in winter
runs through the yellow green veldt
past a few oak and blue gum trees
to the purple blue mountains
in the distance
is a Pierneef,
but what draws it nearer to me,
is that I almost feel
the sand beneath me feet,
can smell the tussocks of grass,
try to catch the shades of the trees
one by one,
see a graveyard
in the distance next to
a few bushes,
look at the bright blue sky
and get emotionally involved
with this painting
as it brings my childhood days
back to me
and it jumps right
into my heart.
[Reference: Painting by D Jacobs that belongs to me.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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take Me With You(wherever You Go)
take me to the place
where a waterfall
really is a waterfall
deep dark blue
take me with you
take me to a place
where a sunset
really is a sunset
bright orange and violet
i don't care what colour
just take me with you
take me to a place
where a rainbow
really is a rainbow
red, orange, green and blue
indigo, violet and yellow to
take me with you
take me to a place
where the snow
really is snow
take me to that place
i would love to go
to go with you
take me anywhere
where you go
where you really go
i will follow you
together we will go
take me with you
poem by Allen Steble
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When time glides by and days past into night
When time glides by and days past into night
and violet, white even blue flowers are withering
with every morning’s light
as if everything is dying
trees are barren stripped of their leaves,
still perfect you are in every way
while wheat are bound in golden sheaves
while winter brings its own decay
it is as if you are still blossoming
with love serene, true and amazing
as if caught in an eternal spring
as if the heat from your heart is blazing:
on the other side of death, of heaven or doom
your flower will still bloom.
[Reference: Sonnet 16 “But wherefor do not you a mightier way” by William Shakespeare.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Turning Leaves
Red, red, red
Right ahead,
Yellow, yellow like the sun,
Through the leaves run,
Orange, orange many trees,
Blowing in the breeze,
A few evergreens,
Many autumn scenes,
Walk along a stream,
Seems as a dream,
Add blue and white,
A bird in flight,
Climb to the top,
Seems the forest never stop,
From the tower view,
Only get a clue,
Sunset indigo and violet,
If only for a bit,
Walk among the leaves,
Feel the fall breeze.
poem by Fritzner Erauda
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I dream of
I dreamed of beauty, neither of mountains nor of a setting sun on a summer day.
I dreamed of beauty, neither of running streams nor of a garden of flowers in early may.
I dreamed of beauty, neither of autumn in the fall nor of beautiful winter snow when it falls.
I dreamed of you my beauty, for when I see you my knees grow weak and I shall fall.
6-1-02
poem by Timothy Honeycutt
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Passageways
Who set, between those rocks like cinder,
to show the honey of dream,
that golden broom,
those blue rosemaries?
Who painted the purple mountains
and the saffron, sunset sky?
The hermitage, the beehives,
the cleft of the river
the endless rolling water deep in rocks,
the pale-green of new fields,
all of it, even the white and pink
under the almond trees!
poem by Antonio Machado
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Everything is going to be wet
Every day rain falls down
from the overcast grey sky
and lightning bolts
flash blue white
like the fingers
of the gods
caressing the earth
while the leaves of autumn
cover every tree
in auburn, yellow and brown.
Green leaves on the stems
of big pink hollyhocks
here and there
dip up and down
when hit by drops of rain
as if suddenly coming alive
and it’s going to be
a wet winter
and probably
not all that chilly
with rain falling
out of season.
The grass is green
and everything but trees
are growing
as if it’s still spring.
and flowers bloom
on geraniums, roses, hollyhocks,
lilies, irises and petunias
in colours ranging
from white, orange, yellow,
violet to red and blue
and without covering
everything is going
to be wet.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Violet Fire
Renewal revels on golden islands
No encumber some vicissitudes
We are the pink rocks of romance
Freedom soars on porcelain angels
Leaves of classic paganism
Inside the tubes of wet forests
Symbiotic truth in your flesh
Poetry of the inner loom
Canals pour their elastic walls
She is the hot moon
Burning trees of green wind
Blue birds like sensuous fire
All monasteries rooted in the desert
Time in pink talons on nipple mountains
Seize the moment in hungry red
Silk stockings around my cerebellum
Stars of silk decadence
Our passion reaches knowledge
Knowledge of ancient flowers
We make love for days like violet fire
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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A Blue Rose!
Genetically modified flower blue rose is unique!
Rose colour gives hope of future by its very look;
Red rose is unique among flowers as it is queen
In the flower world nobody can deny having it!
Yellow rose shines bright in the long green garden
Full of many trees and other flower plants broad!
Pink rose flowers are many everywhere as border
Mainly in the botanical garden of hill stations here!
Blue rose, a new addition in the flower kingdom
Among lavender, blue bells and rare kurinjis of
Light blue, violet and ink blue colours everywhere
Stands majestic and having healing touch to all!
Rose is rose by whatever name it is called and also
Rose is rose by whatever colour it is produced ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Reverie
There exists a place within my most vivid dreams where suspicion is unheard of-
Where lack of trust had never shown its evil countenance-
I follow this meandering river beyond
This territory illuminated by daytime stars- without the sun
Shining its orange-hued light upon the path my spirit follows-
The moon, stars, the gilded pond-
Seemingly violet in hue when reflecting the light of the moon at midnight-
I am walking alongside the river of my imaginings
Serpentine and deep in some ways as the
Ubiquitous thoughts and voices only I can hear inside my mind-
This realm of meandering rays of light
I follow and nobody follows me
Safe within my solitude, I am-
Only seraphs paint the sky a pale shade of cerulean-blue
As certain as the flowers are growing alongside the path beside me-
Although today-I am not afraid-
Flowers are non- threatening as they have no souls- and
Those who have no souls can do no harm-
Alive in this land where trees grow upward to reach the sky-
I do not fear:
Yellow blossoms dance in
An early spring zephyr and the trees bow gently
Within a gentle gust of wind-
The light of the moon is dim but magical
Unlike the garish rays of the sun-
Alone inside this place of my reverie, I am-
I see my reflection in the crystal clarity of
A pond of azure-blue reflecting the starlight-
Safe inside the world of my delusiveness-
Separate from humanity, I have escaped far beyond the mountains rising behind me as
The cloud cover bars me from reality-
Here inside my own small world protected by the ramparts of nature-
I am alive and jovial- I am not afraid-
Just happy to be singing my own songs and to be speaking my own voice-
With nothing to fear- alone, and content to be alive inside this land of my dreams-
Just to be watching the sun set behind the mountains as darkness overshadows-
I am not afraid…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Mystical reality
There are red flames
that’s curling in a bush
out of her head
and the fairy princess
are pure and innocent
with her violet
flower petal dress,
which shows her body
at places through the thin material.
She has green magically beautiful eyes
and pointed little ears
and slender arms and legs
and her fine transparent wings,
sweeps past and looks
as if it is made
from the thinnest silk.
About her there’s clusters
of golden flowers
and in the background,
a gigantic female angel
with ink blue thought struck eyes
that is near to protect her.
The strict face
of the blonde angel
looks like that of a mother,
that is watching over her child
and I see her blue white wings
that fold over each other
and her deep blue dress
with its golden collar
looks like that of a queen.
[Reference: Mystical reality. Painting by Mandi. Look at the painting on my website: http: //www.mabooki.com/poems/display/1415_Mystical_rea lity.htm]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Blue Grass And Green Skies
the grass is blue
the skies are green
the sea is black
the sun is violet
the river is grey
the flowers are silver
the mountains red
i lost my sense of color
my sense of touch
i lost my logic
without you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Blue Mystical Bride
A blue mystical bride
With a violet hue
On a lilac afternoon
Met me beneath
Pagan trees
With supernatural charms
To protect me from despair
And transport me through storms
To a sanctuary of prophetic flowers
And fortune-telling leaves.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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