Blazing in Gold and quenching in Purple
228
Blazing in Gold and quenching in Purple
Leaping like Leopards to the Sky
Then at the feet of the old Horizon
Laying her spotted Face to die
Stooping as low as the Otter's Window
Touching the Roof and tinting the Barn
Kissing her Bonnet to the Meadow
And the Juggler of Day is gone
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Related quotes
Leopards at Knole
Leopards on the gable-ends,
Leopards on the painted stair,
Stiff the blazoned shield they bear,
Or and gules, a bend of vair,
Leopards on the gable-ends,
Leopards everywhere.
Guard and vigil in the night
While the ancient house is sleeping
They three hundred years are keeping,
Nightly from their stations leaping,
Shadows black in moonlight bright,
Roof to gable creeping.
Rigid when the day returns,
Up aloft in sun or rain
Leopards at their posts again
Watch the shifting pageant's train;
And their jewelled colour burns
In the window-pane.
Often on the painted stair,
As I passed abstractedly,
Velvet footsteps, two and three,
Padded gravely after me.
- There was nothing, nothing there,
Nothing there to see.
poem by Victoria Sackville-West
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Come With Me To The Edge Of The World
Come with me to the edge of the world,
Let's go there where sunset is touching the horizon,
Where is only silence and peace,
There is a place just for us, for you and me.
Far away from people, far away from crowd,
We are running to find a place for our hearts,
Where is only sky above us to share with it our dreams,
Where is only peace and harmony.
The night was coming, such a silent night,
Only your arms and wind were wrapping me,
Only your whispers and seagulls were my music,
Only your heart was belonging to me.
The sea is touching our feet laying on the sand,
Only seagulls are screaming crossing the sky,
Making aware us this is not a dream,
Is reality of our lives, another page in the book of life.
There is a place just for us, for you and me,
Where is only silence and peace,
Let's go there where sunset is touching the horizon,
Come with me to the edge of the world.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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Walking home from town
The sulphur sky stretched from horizon
to horizon above me
without a cloud to be seen
or a speck of a single bird,
just the blazing white-hot sun
frying down in the breathless hot air
while we walked from town,
being without a car
and your iris coloured purple blouse
and denim blue mini skirt
more than suited you
and you looked cool as ice
while the sun was squelching me
and little streams of sweat
was running down my face,
my chest and arms.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Web
Two old spinsters
Sitting in the barn,
One used candlewick
The other used yarn,
One wore a bonnet
With a white lace trim,
The other bobbed her hair
With a dragonfly pin.
They spun and they spun
‘Til the bobbins were full,
They'd squeeze out the knots
Put a twist in the wool,
They spun through the day
And on through the night
And glared at each other
If it didn't look right.
While up in the beams
Of the barn overhead
Two spinsters were spinning out
A gossamer thread,
They stared on down
With their little black eyes
And they spun round the bonnet
And the red dragonfly.
The webs floated down
Were glued to each face
With the spinsters spinning
At a frantic pace.
The wheels stopped spinning
With a sudden click-clack
As the spinsters stared
At those eyes, so black.
As the next day dawned
They came to the barn,
The men and the children
Of that little old farm,
The spinsters were spun
In a giant cobweb,
As they sat, eyes staring -
They were stone cold dead!
13 October 2012
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler
Yes...
I love the foreplay.
And a touching we both get.
With the kissing done in tenderness,
When stripped to nakedness.
YES...
I LOVE THE FOREPLAY.
And a touching we both get.
With the kissing done in tenderness,
When stripped to nakedness.
YES...
I LOVE THE FOREPLAY.
AND A TOUCHING WE BOTH GET.
With the kissing done in tenderness,
When stripped to nakedness.
YES...
I LOVE THE FOREPLAY.
AND A TOUCHING WE BOTH GET.
WITH THE KISSING DONE IN TENDERNESS,
When stripped to nakedness.
YES...
I LOVE THE FOREPLAY.
AND A TOUCHING WE BOTH GET.
WITH THE KISSING DONE IN TENDERNESS,
WHEN STRIPPED TO NAKEDNESS.
Yes...
I do!
'And I gather you are a screamer too? '
Aux contrare, mon ami.
Tu et moi...
Moan!
Laissez les bon temps rouler.
C'est si bon!
N'est pas? Oui.
'I get the 'we' bit.
But I'm not so sure about the nest,
Pa!
Yours or mine? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Without The Chase
August 31,2009
Pink to blue, to yellow,
to monstrous purple clouds looming on the horizon;
My horizon, layed out before me.
I step out, look up and it flies away.
You fly away. I jump for you
and I am leaping, bounding,
stretchng beyond my limits into pink and blue,
and pink and blue.
But you're gone.
I settle again, shrug, and look
to the monstrous purple clouds.
I could fly away without the chase,
theres just no desire for me to have it any other way.
I blink, and look up again to purple,
lavender, yellow, clouds of the deepest grey.
Dusk settles.
All of a sudden, I can hear everything.
Crickets, every far off chirp in trees.
I smile as I step back in.
Back into sheltered silence.
poem by Monica O'Connor
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Better Than This
I'd give anything, everything
To have something better than this
Look there, do you see it
Something hidden beyond the horizon
And I'll watch it in the rain pouring down
Turn into fog, just a mystery
He looks for a glance out the window
Sees me sitting there, watching, in the rain
I'd give anything, everything
To have something better than this
I see a memory, my memory
When I said, look there
But he didn't see it, never will see it
Something's there, hidden beyond the horizon
He turns, looks out the window
Sees me kissing my dreams in the rain
Turns away quickly with a bitter smile
Thinks I should be kissing him
But I'd give anything, everything
To have something better than this
That doesn't turn his back on my dreams
And I remember crying
Crying in the rain, talking to myself
I want a life better than this
So I fix my eyes on the horizon
There's something there, beyond the horizon
I'll quietly watch it
In the rain pouring down
Turn into fog, just a mystery
Now I have just a memory of that boy
He turned away from me for always with a bitter smile
But I know I don't feel that way
Anymore
Now I have something to do with my life
Something better than that
Because I fixed my eyes
On that something, beyond the horizon
That time when I wanted something
Something better than this
And I fulfilled my dreams
A Romance In Moonlight
In silence of night we walk along the beach,
The warmth of sand comforting our feet,
Holding hands as our souls are touching each other,
Our minds are connected in this moonlight romance.
On the sand, a candles dinner is waiting for us,
We dont have music, only seagulls around,
We'll dance to the music of waves and silence of moon,
A touching for eternity of blue eyes with mysterious man.
We are two souls dancing, the world belongs to us tonight,
We reached together the horizon and sky,
Hugging and kissing each other we make stars shine,
We live a romance in moonlight, just you and I.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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What Is A Barn?
A barn is many things-
A barn is a fun place
To run, romp, and play.
It is also a place of refuge,
On hot or stormy days.
A barn is a storage place
For all your tools, grain, and hay.
It is also a place to unwind,
When you have had a tough day.
A barn becomes God's sanctuary,
When you begin to pray
It is also a place of work,
When work is needing done.
A barn is a place
Where freindships can be made
It is also a place
Where new life is born.
A barn is a place
To try with all your might
And finally when its doors are closed,
'Tis safety from the night.
A barn is a place for horses,
And it is a place for cows
A barn is also a hayloft,
Full of little meows
A barn is the Inn
Where our Savior was born
God, our Savior,
Christ, our Lord.
A barn is a work place,
A barn is a play place
A barn is a great place
A barn is a training ring...
A barn is..
Well, when it comes right
Down to it,
A barn is everything!
poem by Macy Dvirnak
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My Bonnet Of Blue
My bonnet of blue, my bonnet of blue,
Its gossamer fineness I'll sing to you;
For a delicate fabric in sooth it was,
All trimmed and finified off with gauze.
My bonnet of blue, my bonnet of blue,
How well I remember thy azure hue!
To church I wore it, one pleasant day,
Bedecked in ribbons of fanciful ray;
And all the while I sat on my seat
I thought of naught save my bonnet so neat.
My bonnet of blue, my bonnet of blue,
Broke not my heart when I bade thee adieu?
When service was over, my steps I bent
Towards home, a-nodding my head as I went
But, alas for my bonnet! there came a wind
And blew it away, for the strings were not pinned.
My bonnet of blue, my bonnet of blue,
What shifting scenes have been thine to pass through!
I raised my eyes to the calm, blue sky,
There sailed my bonnet serene and high!
O, what a feeling of hopeless woe
Stole over me then, no heart may know!
My bonnet of blue, my bonnet of blue,
As clear as the sky was thy azure hue!
'Twas vain to mourn for my bonnet, and yet
It taught me a lesson I shall not forget;
'Twas, never to make you an idol of clay,
For when you best love them they'll fly away.
My bonnet of blue, my bonnet of blue,
I loved thee well, but thou wert untrue!
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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The Sun kept stooping—stooping
152
The Sun kept stooping—stooping—low!
The Hills to meet him rose!
On his side, what Transaction!
On their side, what Repose!
Deeper and deeper grew the stain
Upon the window pane—
Thicker and thicker stood the feet
Until the Tyrian
Was crowded dense with Armies—
So gay, so Brigadier—
That I felt martial stirrings
Who once the Cockade wore—
Charged from my chimney corner—
But Nobody was there!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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My Imagination of a Purple Sky
I imagined a Purple Sky today from dawn till dusk.
A gold moon and millions of gold stars lit across this silk sheet of a Purple Sky.
And then it rained streaks of fine gold.
The majestic sky then decided to be very generous and poured down tremendous amounts of Rubies, Diamonds and Sapphires.
All different colours, shapes and sizes.
A great big King then appeared radiant in the Purple Sky and looked down at me with such a delight...
I was atonished with joy!
He was wearing a dazzling gold crown encrusted with millions of white diamonds and a crushed Purple velvet gown with such a long train.
It was certainly a sight for my sore eyes.
Here.. he said come take me hand... I want you to be the Queen of this Purple Sky, but most importantly be the Queen of my Purple Heart....
He swept me off my feet and we sat in the great heights of his Kingdom in the Purple Sky drinking goblets of wine.
A colleague then tapped my shoulder and notified me I was late for a meeting! ! ! ! !
I then discovered something strange as I put my hand into my jacket pocket out appeared a beautiful Purple Ruby ring.....
poem by Premila Patel
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Shatterproof
I see those newly weds
Their eyes wide and believing
They bill and coo at the mention of chez nous
Appearances can be deceiving
Its just a door and a window
Four walls and a roof
But a home of your own would be shatterproof
A door and a window
Four walls and a roof
But a home of your own would be shatterproof
We papered over all the cracks
And painted a cats lick and a promise
The landlord was a man of few words
And most of them were ominous
Its just a door and a window
Four walls and a roof
But a home of your own would be shatterproof
A door and a window
Four walls and a roof
But a home of your own would be shatterproof
It was nothing really to write home about
Then one day it all appears too much
Here comes my little hammer and its shatterproof touch
He said, be practical,
These are most unreasonable demands.
Forget about the broken spectacles
And the damage to your hand.
Its just a door and a window
Four walls and a roof
And the doctors say Im almost shatterproof
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Birthday Suit
Laying in the avocado meadow
I watched the clouds sail past
on their ocean carpet today
Leaden silver bottoms about to burst
Shifting shapes into animals I did not know
Their enormous eyes watched with jealously
as you painted flowers on my skin
I lay as still as a flat line
not wanting to awaken from
the mad rush of love I felt
or to disturb each soft brush stroke
and the attention to detail placed upon
making the blank canvas readable
and cover over it's wounds with
royal purple and gold
poem by Sara Fielder
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In The Dark, Painted Pink
eyes blazing in the dark
do not be slumbered
by sleek black hair
and soft touching
of breath from
ripened lips of red
eyes blazing in the dark
do not fall into sleep's abyss
as gentle touch
fingers promises on brow
with polished nails
pointed painted pink
eyes blazing in the dark
do not drift in dreams
of allures sweet scent
such intoxicates
and dims the wit
of weary men
eyes blazing in the dark
look into souls
and reflect
what is within;
eyes blazing in the dark
poem by David Taylor
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New Light New Colour
An old man
welcomes
his four day old
grandson
white stillness pure gold purple wonder gold strength pink joy
pink infinity navy blue now strong indigo blue light blue fountain
the green first reason endless yellow compassionate orange
royal red
single red free orange free yellow
green depth as clear as crystal all attractive light blue
strong indigo blue strong navy blue pink wishes gold compassion
compassionate purple gold of golds of creativity
who is quiet
and naturally very small and delicate
red inspirer orange giver yellow help dazzling green
light blue of the delicate with indigo blue eyes navy blue good
with pink kind eyes golden hair
golden complexion purple complexion
gold warmth of white space
white of whites
gold truth purple mentor funny gold pink friend of children
navy blue of nature indigo blue knowledge light blue song of nature
green creation yellow in senses orange guide red way
white and gold love
of all purple knowledge gold presence pink in thunder and storms
navy blue pleasure indigo blue beauty light blue lines
all attractive green of yellow stirring music of orange red refuge
clear red orange orange yellow yellow with green giving hands
of green light blue truth indigo blue essence navy blue sparkle
pink with gold purple guide gold here here white
His feet are curled
His fingers as small as tiny magic wands
His eyes large
Some skin is peeling off his small face
Everything is perfectly formed
white
is the sun with penetrating vision purple and golden constant winner
gold reach of all pink infinite navy blue indigo blue knowledge
light blue care
deep green in greens dedicated to yellow
orange truth
red peace
This perfect body was in his mother only a week ago
thinks the old man
He places his hand on the boys stomach
red glory orange beauty yellow
of green and light blue evenings handsome indigo blue
intelligent navy blue pink of pinks of gold golds purple purple
gold friend openness formless
white and gold
prevailing purple efficient purple purple origin purple form
gold and permanent pink navy blue belief indigo blue blue
dense green yellow orange red friend red
The boy almost gasps at this touch
He yawns
His eyes remain anxiously focused on the window
eager to understand the Australian light
poem by Bhupen Thakker
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If Purple Could Heal You
If Purple Could Heal You
By Tameka Callaway
One day, you told me that Purple is your favorite color.
I wish that purple can heal you
If purple could heal you, I would give purple flowers everyday
in a purple vase that will make your day
I would wear purple lip stick so I come leave kisses on you face
Wish there was purple days and purple nights
If only purple could heal you, I will give a purple glass of purple kool aid with purple ice so you would have a purple tong
I would go to the end of the world to find you the perfect purple yarn so I could make you a purple body suit from head to toe
Oh how I would give you a purple world
But for now, I just give you a purple poem
I love you
poem by Tameka Callaway
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On A Painting By Patient B Of The Independence State Hospital For The Insane
1
These seven houses have learned to face one another,
But not at the expected angles. Those silly brown lumps,
That are probably meant for hills and not other houses,
After ages of being themselves, though naturally slow,
Are learning to be exclusive without offending.
The arches and entrances (down to the right out of sight)
Have mastered the lesson of remaining closed.
And even the skies keep a certain understandable distance,
For these are the houses of the very rich.
2
One sees their children playing with leopards, tamed
At great cost, or perhaps it is only other children,
For none of these objects is anything more than a spot,
And perhaps there are not any children but only leopards
Playing with leopards, and perhaps there are only the spots.
And the little maids that hang from the windows like tongues,
Calling the children in, admiring the leopards,
Are the dashes a child might represent motion by means of,
Or dazzlement possibly, the brilliance of solid-gold houses.
3
The clouds resemble those empty balloons in cartoons
Which approximate silence. These clouds, if clouds they are
(And not the smoke from the seven aspiring chimneys),
The more one studies them the more it appears
They too have expressions. One might almost say
They have their habits, their wrong opinions, that their
Impassivity masks an essentially lovable foolishness,
And they will be given names by those who live under them
Not public like mountains’ but private like companions’.
poem by Donald Justice
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A Summer Poem
tokyo summer, the blazing sun heats up
the air, the road and the beach opening up
the avenues and lanes for new friendships
a riotious crowd have stamped a mishmash trail
of excitements and robust spirits of adventures
a young sun rising on the horizon of our gaze
is witnessed by another matching alluring pair,
the azure sky and sea
with the looseness of the sand at our feet
the crispness of our breath and the
the tightness of our grasp
we we look into each other's eyes and
feel the heat of many more summers
rising and touching our hearts
the surging waves leading
us to somewhere divine
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Big Barn Bed
Whos that coming round that corner
Whos that coming round that bend
Whos that coming round that corner, will it
Will it be my friend
Keep on sleeping in a big barn bed
Keep on sleeping in a big barn bed
Who you gonna weep on? / who you gonna sleep on?
Who you gonna creep on next?
Weeping on a willow / sleeping on a pillow
Leaping armadillo, yes
Keep on sleeping in a big barn bed etc.
Will it be my friend
Keep on sleeping in a big barn bed
Who you gonna weep on? / who you gonna sleep on?
Whos you gonna creep on next?
Weeping on a willow / sleeping on a pillow
Leaping armadillo, yes
Keep on sleeping in a big barn bed
Keep on sleeping in a big barn bed etc.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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