Related quotes: Hot gold runs a winding...

Crucible

Hot gold runs a winding stream on the inside of a green bowl.

Yellow trickles in a fan figure, scatters a line of skirmishes, spreads a chorus
of dancing girls, performs blazing ochre evolutions, gathers the whole show into
one stream, forgets the past and rolls on.

The sea-mist green of the bowl's bottom is a dark throat of sky crossed by
quarreling forks of umber and ochre and yellow changing faces.

poem by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

How Many Shades Of Green

HOW MANY SHADES OF GREEN

How many shades of green
Olive green
Dark green
Light green
Yellow green
How many shades of yellow
Deep yellow
Rose yellow
Sun yellow
Morning light yellow
How many shades of light
How much light
How much Beauty in the world
How much Light-
How much- God.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Indian minor

It landed on the wall
that divided the front yard
from the back
where my yellow BMW
was sheltered under a roof

It was dark brown with a yellow bill
and sharp small black intelligent eyes
watching everything
much like a crow or raven.

Every now and then
it darted down
to land next to the bowl
with the dog’s pellets
pecking them up
as another bird would seed.

The dog would eat every now and then
and sometimes guard its bowl
lying there defying that bird,
but when ever it would go
that bird would
have its feast,

till one day
that I took that bowl away
into the dogs pen
and then that bird
sat screaming on that wall
as if I had stolen
his dearest possessions
from him
as if there was nothing else to steal.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Away The Bowl

Our grateful hearts with temperance burn,
Away, away the bowl,
From dram shops all, our steps we turn,
Away, away the bowl;
Farewell to rum and all its harms,
Farewell the wine-cup's boasted charms,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.

See how that staggering drunkard reels!
Away, away the bowl;
Alas, the misery he reveals,
Away, away the bowl;
His children grieve, his wife's in tears!
How sad his once bright home appears!
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.

We drink no more, nor buy nor sell,
Away, away the bowl!
The grog-shop's offers we repel,
Away, away the bowl.
United in a temperance band,
We 're joined in heart, we 're joined in hand,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.

poem by John Pierpont
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Green-Water Stream

To reach the Yellow-Flowered River
Go by the Green-Water Stream.
A thousand twists and turns of mountain
But the way there can’t be many miles.
The sound of water falling over rocks
And deep colour among pines.
Gently green floating water-plants.
Bright the mirrored reeds and rushes.
I am a lover of true quietness.
Watching the flow of clear water
I dream of sitting on the uncarved rock
casting a line on the endless stream.

poem by Wang Wei
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Disputants

Upon the table in their bowl
in violent disarray
of yellow sprays, green spikes
of leaves, red pointed petals
and curled heads of blue
and white among the litter
of the forks and crumbs and plates
the flowers remain composed.
Coolly their colloquy continues
above the coffee and loud talk
grown frail as vaudeville.

poem by William Carlos Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Woman is not blunt.

I sent her a note
to come the next day
in green saree,
to test her love.
She came
but not in green.
She came in yellow.
I am relieved
As she didn’t come
in red.
No woman is blunt
to show her mind.
Yellow is
as good as green.
12.12.2001, pakd

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fall Leaves Dance

Look up and they're green,
Look up and they're yellow and green.
Then they're yellow, orange, red and green.
And then most are yellow, green, orange, brown,
Masses of moving colors, dancing up and down.

Slow, colorful dances bemuse the morning breeze,
The pace quickens with the evening wind.
It's right, it's left, it's up and down,
It's east, to west, to north, to south,
Warmed and energized by the setting sun.

Squirrels race among the leaves
Doing their dance routines,
Skimming and swaying the branches,
Weighting the limbs and twigs
With buoyant starts, stops and turns.

The new season is appearing: Fall is here!
Quietly and slowly birds hop from branch to branch
Camouflaged among the leaves
That silently fall, to carpet the ground and invite
New crushing, musical rolls from children at play.

poem by Hildred Marjorie Schloss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Irises, a painting by Vincent van Gogh (Ekphrastic Poetry)

There is an explosion of green life in the light,
This life extrapolates all its emerald green.
This life needs its eternity to be as tight
And as deep as an icy queen needs her own sheen.

And all the colors of the rainbow may be seen
In different amounts to the different shades.
Blue iris is placed in a complex world of green.
Into the flowers’ bed, these flowers are like spades.

They need to reassure, as Pantone may suggest,
This world of mystery, which no longer excites.
With pale neutral yellow tongs, they're in great request,
With neutral yellow thoughts, they please the Queen of White.

Alongside darker colors, neutral things sustain
The balance of thoughts serving as background to pray.
The warm cadmium yellow may exigently drain
The bad spirits and irises keep them away.

Van Gogh used such a small amount of indigo,
While this indigo conveys truthfulness and trust,
But his emerald green was like a piccolo,
And through this emerald his world was readjust.

Using the bright head against the rich blue background,
Van Gogh sent messages writing with his colors.
In ochre's religious fight, he lost his ear's sound
To purify this world, where the thought discolors.

MCN: C7YFX-N68R2-2YAHJ

poem by Marieta Maglas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Le Panneau

Under the rose-tree's dancing shade
There stands a little ivory girl,
Pulling the leaves of pink and pearl
With pale green nails of polished jade.

The red leaves fall upon the mould,
The white leaves flutter, one by one,
Down to a blue bowl where the sun,
Like a great dragon, writhes in gold.

The white leaves float upon the air,
The red leaves flutter idly down,
Some fall upon her yellow gown,
And some upon her raven hair.

She takes an amber lute and sings,
And as she sings a silver crane
Begins his scarlet neck to strain,
And flap his burnished metal wings.

She takes a lute of amber bright,
And from the thicket where he lies
Her lover, with his almond eyes,
Watches her movements in delight.

And now she gives a cry of fear,
And tiny tears begin to start:
A thorn has wounded with its dart
The pink-veined sea-shell of her ear.

And now she laughs a merry note:
There has fallen a petal of the rose
Just where the yellow satin shows
The blue-veined flower of her throat.

With pale green nails of polished jade,
Pulling the leaves of pink and pearl,
There stands a little ivory girl
Under the rose-tree's dancing shade.

poem by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mediterranean

A bright red boat
Yellow capsicums

Blue fishing nets
Ochre fort walls

Sahar’s silk blouse
gold and sheer

Her dark black
kohl-lined lashes

A street child’s
brown fists

holding the rainbow
in his small grasp

My lost memory
white and frozen

now melts colour
ready to refract.

poem by Sudeep Sen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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ET Came To Breakfast (Fun Poem 10)

My breakfast was going snap, crackle and pop,
when suddenly in the chair opposite something went plop.
I looked across the table and was astonished to see,
a little green man looking at me.
I blinked a couple of times,
even pinched myself to make sure it was real.
He was, you can believe,
and my breakfast he was trying to steal.
We pulled at the bowl,
no one getting the upper hand,
and then he stuck his finger in the bowl,
and sucked out the blinking lot,
milk and my snap, crackle and pop.

The moral of this story.
If a little green man comes to breakfast,
Get an extra bowl.

28 April 2007

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Being Green

(joe raposo)
One day, as I was walking through my garden, I saw a little frog lying on the ground. and I thought he was sick. so I picked him up and he wasnt sick at all. he was very sad, and he was crying.
I said: whats a matter with you, little frog? and he looked up at me with a lump in his throat, and he said: wribbit!
It aint easy being green
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves
When I think, I think it would be nicer being red
Or yellow or gold
You see, it aint easy being green
It seems to blend in with so many other ordinary things
And then, sometimes, sometimes people pass over you
Because youre not standing out like sparkles on the water
Or like the stars in the sky
But did you know that green is the color of spring
And green can be big like an ocean
And important like a mountain
And cool and friendly-like
Or tall and skinny like a tree
And me
But when green is all there is to be
It kind of makes you wonder why
Why wonder, wonder why?
Hey, Im green and I think itll do fine
cause green is just what I wanna be
cause green is beautiful, baby
Right on green
And anyway, moneys green
Wribbit

song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Death In The Morning...!

A single solitary sun ray
Dashing through the morning dew
Touched the side of the little yellow flower
Trying to wake up spredding yellow petals
A top the green grassy hill...

The birds washing their faces
Whistling little tunes
Glanced at the flower
With a delight in their eyes...

Like the blade of a fencing sword
Racing through the wind
The sharp edge of the grass cutters cutter
Caught the little flower
Chopping it into thousand yellow specks...

Among the green slivers
That showered back on to the grass
Little golden yellow specks
Smiled sadly a last smile

Shattered dew drops
Lazily settled down
Kissing the yellow dust
Trying to feel the flower
Trying to kiss its face...!

poem by Rowving Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Yellow Ribbon On The Old Oak Tree

who can forget the yellow ribbon
on that old oak tree? tell me.

tomorrow, i shall wear my yellow cap
my yellow shirt, my yellow brief,
my yellow pants.

my jaundiced eye, my golden yellow ring.
tomorrow, in my country, the sky is yellow.

all steps lead to the yellow brick road.
all fruits are ripe and mellow and yellow.

Tomorrow, the country is yellow.
Yellow for integrity, Yellow for change.
Yellow for justice. Yellow for truth.

One day more, and the sun shall rise
Yellow as ever.Yellow forever.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Naturally Green

My mother always enjoyed
Picnics on lushes green grass
With trees to show
How green Mother Nature keeps
Her house of plants
Without green
There may be no greed
But it is that of the apple
That keeps us whole
Without care,
Green turns to brown.
With love,
Green grows strong.
When green turns to yellow
We go slow
So never let green
Turn red with envy
Or life may go
In a direction
You did not choose

poem by Scot Warren
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Nonsense Poem - a Villanelle

A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little worm hops in a hole

A little hat has lost its sole
A little petal has no peel
A little mouse sings in a bowl

A little dog dances a reel
A little frog jumps on a mole
A little fish runs on a wheel

A little boat rings out a peal
A little bell loses its keel
A little mouse sings in a bowl

A little rock slips on a seal
A little perch walks on a pole
A little fish runs on a wheel

A little card shakes on a deal
A little sigh fancies a meal
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little fish runs on a wheel

poem by Alison Cassidy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Journeys end

The stream meanders to and fro.
Here where the cattle come to drink
the yellow cowslips gaily grow.

The weeping willows stooping low
adorn the banks on either side.
The stream continues in its flow.

Past meadows where the cattle graze
and fields where corn is ripening
but here and there red poppies blaze.

The stream now to a river grown
now deep and wide; it gathers strength
Its purpose to itself unknown.

Past cottages which stand alone.
Small villages and market towns
and bridges built of weathered stone.

It has become a thoroughfare
which slices through the city’s heart
With rush and bustle everywhere.

The docks and quays and factories
confine the river in its course.
There is no grass there are no trees.

The river flows on turgidly
until at last it gains release
and flows into the open sea.

But in the distance still the stream
meanders gently to and fro
Where cowslips nod and lovers dream.

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sun's yellow

Sun, s yellow grow,
yellow seedlings green;
Unless present the sun
photosynthesis not seen.

Green leaves change to
yellow in autumn;
Longer goes for rest
shorter present the sun.

Leaves paint landscape
in sun, s presence;
Chlorophyll goes green,
carotenoids orange.

Intensity of the sun
lot to bear on weather;
Land, s wetness goes
human sweats in summer.

poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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May's Come To Ireland

The robin he sings on green sycamore bough
And calf drink from udder of her mother cow
And the dark otters play in quiet pools of the stream
And May's come to Ireland and meadows are green,
The sun in the morning shine through the gray fog
And the turf cutters shlaun out dark peat in brown bog
And the gorse bloom with yellow flowers on the brown hill
And golden buttercups bloom on green banks of the rill,
The skylark is carolling his clear notes of joy
As he soars towards the heavens a speck in the sky
And the plain mottled pheasant she sits on her nest
Her twelve olive brown eggs so warm neath her breast
And the swallows fly o'er the green meadows all day
And the hedgerows scent sweet with the blossoms of May.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Emerald City Sequence

(quincy jones/charlie smalls)
Emerald city green:
I want to be seen green
Wouldnt be caught dead, red
cause if you are seen green
It means you got mean bread
Youve got to be seen green
To show that youre stuffs layed
If youre not seen green
You better be wearing jade
Oh, youve got to be seen green
Dont tell them your cupboards bare
That you gave up one weeks feed
To pay for your colored hair
Oh, oh, oh
An announcement from the great powerful oz:
I thought it over and green is dead
till I change my mind, the color is red
Emerald city red:
I wouldnt be seen green
Ooo! oo! oo! ah! ah!
I wouldnt be caught dead
And if Im caught at all
Then catch me in dead, red
Ooo!
Youve got to be dead red
Youve got to be real hot
So throw away those green gems
And wear rubies on your yacht
Youve got to be dead, red
Youve got to have flash and flair
And if youre not seen red
Then you shouldnt be seen nowhere
Ah!
How quickly fashion goes down the drain.
Last week when you all was wearin pink
Already for me red was old.
The ultimate brick is gold.
Thats the new color, children
Emerald city gold:
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
You got to be seen gold
Watch out for the new kind
You got to have old gold
Like some from a gold mine
You got to be wearin gold
The twenty four carat kind
And once youve shined it up
It should ought to make you blind, ah!
You got to be seen in gold
To show that youre super slick
It helps to pay tips and tolls
Its the ultimate yellow brick
Its the ultimate
Gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Gold, gold, gold, gold
Gold!