The Closing Day
The sunset wore a cloth of gold,
spread out across the sky.
With flaming hues, the daytime blues,
had vanished and did fly.
The view stunningly breathtaking.
A painter’s coloured dream.
Where sable brush, had caused a blush,
as that of a molten stream.
The scene became one of splendour,
rich and vibrant its glow.
One’s mind thrilled at, the Artist that,
set up this awesome show.
The depths of those rosy colours,
all moving constantly.
Made them all blaze, and all did gaze,
at the glory there to see.
The closing day, settling to rest,
changed into its dark night.
But will once more, return to draw,
the eye to this plush sight.
poem by Ernestine Northover

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Symphony Of Colours
I am a painter,
My hands hold a brush,
Moving as my heart wants,
Laughing the joy and crying the sorrow of my life.
I am playing with warm colours,
Using shadows I am emphasizing light,
I want the mankind see the beauty,
Of the marvelous world we have around.
Colours shine on my blank canvas,
In tones of rainbow and joyful lights,
All the warmth of the living,
Is concentrated in a piece of art.
Vibrant colours are merging together,
Dancing in shadows and lights,
All the past and the present lies here,
Being a reflection of my mind.
My thoughts are filling my canvas,
The brush strokes are following my dream,
Expressing the depths of my heart,
A symphony of colours has many stories to tell.
poem by Cristina Teodor

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Sunset's Glow
Pinks, peaches, blues, greys and mauves,
Clouds that cross the sky in droves,
Gently drifting and as they go,
Create such pictures all aglow,
And give a calming of the mind.
My eyes then see trees with hills behind,
A lake and valley, a peaceful scene,
Floating there within a hazy dream,
Believing that it could, in fact, be real,
In colours delicate, and which you feel,
An artist with his very finest brush,
Has painted a perfect landscape, plush.
This view to me is always so fine,
A spectacle of an, exquisite design.
poem by Ernestine Northover

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Pale Morning Sun
Pale morning sun that rises in the east,
Spread wide your light,
And let the warming blush be thus increased,
To shine more bright.
Welcome the dawn and so enhance the sky,
With colours that unite,
A vision there displayed, food for the eye,
Quick changing sight.
A new day now unfolds, and in its glow,
The scene is quite
Breathtaking. Subtle shades soft and mellow,
Just fine and right.
Pale morning sun, that rises, burn more strong,
And so invite,
Nature to call awake the melody of birdsong,
From out the night.
poem by Ernestine Northover

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The Window Of Dreams!
In outer space, where starships fly,
Beyond the sensors and Man's eye,
There rests a realm where pulsars glow
And vibrant colours overflow!
It's there that poets ought to be:
Amid the rainbow ecstasy!
For only those that dare to dream
Should share the effervescent stream!
God grant me visions such as theirs
Who've seen the wondrous while in prayers
To Him above Who's seen it all
And wants to share and thus enthrall!
For what is beauty till it's seen?
It's just as though it's never been!
But when it's known for what it is,
It's like the sweetest ever kiss!
The window frames the sacred sight -
Amid the essence of the night,
Amid the purples, reds and blues,
Amid the myriad mighty hues,
Amid the awesome mystery
Of alien worlds and history!
While Earth has beauties of its own,
The window shows the greatest known
Except to angels Heaven-bound
No greater sight has yet been found!
Is this where poets seek their home
When death would let their spirits roam?
Foretastes of Heaven, nothing more,
Except more reasons to adore
The God of Heaven and of Earth
And cosmic worlds of equal worth.
The Lord Creator waves His hand
To fashion planets, seas and land!
His power knows no end, it seems!
Praise God for THE WINDOW OF DREAMS!
poem by Denis Martindale

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In The Sunset Sky
The sunset sky dazzling with the golden hues,
Taking bow in brilliant sparkle of experience
Is it not a climax, of the story so far, that was today?
Or is it building anticipation of the night yet to come.
Watch the days go, some proud of their accomplishments
Some leaving sighs of disappointments,
Leaving all in awe of its Amaranthine twists and turns
And the fortunate get to see the moon trying to steal the show from setting sun,
Oh she is such a show off, isn’t she, basking in reflected glory
Its magical, the sunset sky, Puzzling, sometimes just like a riddle,
Leaving the nature stunned and amazed
For it has been filling the canvas whole day with colours
And now the sunset threatens to hide them all
And in dark all the colours will be same
A cue to be taken by the wise.
Sunset sky has so much to offer, is she not a fine example of how uncertain a life can be
Often reminding no matter what you planned, there will be some unexpected returns
For End has its own brain, its own script
Charting its own course
So why just the beginning, every moment of the life be grand, meted with equal passion and fervor
She has been so clever; the sunset sky
Leaving Twinkling cryptic messages for the night sky
For even the dark has sparkle and hope if you keep your head up,
A constant reminder that exuberance is an attitude of deep, rich, warm hearts
I want my sunset sky to be grand, magical, and full of stories of my life that has been
And its memories to linger on in this world, in the tomorrow and a few more years to come
poem by Soma Mukherjee

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Meditation. for Sonny Rainshine
The shifting blues of soft twilight, precursor to the fall of night.
From palest blue to indigo the colours waver come and go
.No earthly artist though they try can possibly identify
the boundaries between the hues which swirl and blend just as they choose.
Before they’re overtaken by darkness of night that rules the sky
Until the Moons serenity appears on high for all to see.
Here in the quiet countryside I meditate each eventide
Upon the qualities of light which alter with the fall of night.
Though it grows dark I still can see my eyes can work efficiently adjusting to the changing light though colours fade to black and white. An interlude a passing phase which flees before the silver rays
the newly risen moon supplies. Colours return delight our eyes
Though there’s a subtle difference the colours now are less intense
than those seen by the light of day. As if they’re altered in some way
Although I’m forced to recognise this may be due to tired eyes
I’m half convinced against my will that moonlight can and does instil
some new dimension to how we see.Adding some new delicacy
to our perception of the light. Perhaps we achieve clearer sight.
28-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Canvas
Before my eyes brilliant colour, perfection
Dancing gracefully in every direction,
The world of trees, the art of nature
Are simple reasons for a painter.
The power mother nature can release
Could make a painting, a masterpiece
A gallery of natures finest hues,
Enough to stir the most reluctant muse.
Should mother nature tutor me in art
My tree would show a living beating heart,
And should I save one single living tree
My canvas would inspire the world to see.
Red, orange, yellow, green and brown
Colours of beauty my brush would put down
Bright and vibrant Maple Red and Golden Oak
Living, breathing felt with every brush stroke..
©2011
poem by Hazel Connelly

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Rainbow Love...
Spring showers advance with darkened sky,
They don't last long and soon they die.
Puddles of liquid life left upon my lawn,
Mother earth drinks her fill and soon they're gone.
I raise my head to gaze into the sky,
I watch the grey clouds as they float by.
My eyes are drawn to a brilliant arc of coloured light,
A rainbow is always such a wonderous sight.
With yellows and greens, reds and blues,
Indigo, violet and sparkling golden hues.
This brilliant arc stands out against dark skies,
A gift to the soul witnessed through the eye's.
As I watch the rainbow streak across the skies,
I recall a myth that rainbows end holds a prize.
It's a fairytale that has been long told,
That rainbows mark a pot of shining gold.
The moral of this tale is here for all to hold,
The true wealth we seek is not made of gold.
The love and care of those we hold so dear,
Is the treasure we should seek to hold so near...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer

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Neatness In Apparel
In your garb and outward clothing
A reservëd plainness use;
By their neatness more distinguished
Than the brightness of their hues.
All the colours in the rainbow
Serve to spread the peacock's train;
Half the lustre of his feathers
Would turn twenty coxcombs vain.
Yet the swan that swims in rivers,
Pleases the judicious sight;
Who, of brighter colours heedless,
Trusts alone to simple white.
Yet all other hues, comparëd
With his whiteness, show amiss;
And the peacock's coat of colours
Like a fool's coat looks by his.
poem by Charles Lamb

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Butterfly bliss
‘Buterfly, these words
From my brush are not flowers
Only their shadows’ (Soseki)
butterfly heart I think you are
born to spread a butterfly kiss
brush stroked in heaven resting benign
to thrill beside your Creator’s bliss
butterfly wing I think you are
more tender than any of the hues
poured down the rainbows into my soul
into all the colours of my blues
butterfly deep do lift me up
and let me hear your voice
this is why we both were born
to fly and sing and to rejoice
poem by Miroslava Odalovic

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Painter Man
Went to college, studied arts
To be an artist make a start
Studied hard, gettin my degree
But no one seemed to notice me
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Tried cartoons and comic books
Dirty postcards could have done
Here was where the money laid
Classic art has had its day
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Did adverts for t.v.
Household shops and brands of tea
Labels all around the cans
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
La...la...la...la...la...la...
La...la...la...la...la...la...la...
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
song performed by by Boney M.

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Constantly
All day Im walking in a dream
I think about you constantly
Just like an ever flowing stream
Your memory haunts me constantly
Shadows fall and I try to drive you from my mind
So youre no longer near to me
But my heart sees you there with me
Every sunset you share with me
The rain that patterns throu the tree reminds
Me of you constantly
Your name is whispered by the breeze and love birds
Bring your song to me
Just as same as each star keeps burning
In the sky your flame will stay a flame in me
A flame that burns so bright
Not only throu the night
But constantly
Thro we may be_apart
Youre constantly deep in my heart
song performed by by Cliff Richard

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Canadian Woods In Early Autumn
I have passed the day ’mid the forest gay,
In its gorgeous autumn dyes,
Its tints as bright and as fair to the sight
As the hues of our sunset skies;
And the sun’s glad rays veiled by golden haze,
Streamed down ’neath its arches grand,
And with magic power made scene and hour
Like a dream of Faerie Land.
The emerald sheen of the maple green
Is turned to deep, rich red;
And the boughs entwine with the crimson vine
That is climbing overhead;
While, like golden sheaves, the saffron leaves
Of the sycamore strew the ground,
’Neath birches old, clad in shimmering gold,
Or the ash with red berries crowned.
Stately and tall, o’er its sisters all,
Stands the poplar, proud and lone,
Every silvery leaf in restless grief
Laments for the summer flown;
While each oak and elm of the sylvan realm,
In brilliant garb arrayed,
With each other vie, ’neath the autumn sky,
In beauty of form and shade
When wearied the gaze with the vivid blaze
Of rich tints before it spread—
Gay orange and gold, with shades untold
Of glowing carmine and red—
It can turn ’mid the scene to the sombre green
Of the fir, the hemlock, the pine,
Ever-keeping their hue, and their freshness, too,
’Mid the season’s swift decline.
Though the bird’s sweet song, that the summer long
Hath flowed so sweet and clear
Through the cool, dim shades of our forest glades,
No longer charms the ear,
A witching spell, that will please as well
As his glad notes, may be found
In the solemn hush, or the leaves’ soft rush,
As they thickly strew the ground.
For, though they tell of summer’s farewell,
Of their own decay and doom,
Of the wild storm-cloud and the snow’s cold shroud,
And the days of winter’s gloom,
The heart must yield to the power they wield,—
Alike tender, soothing, gay—
The beauties that gleam and that reign supreme
In our woods, this autumn day.
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

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Gold Clouds
As the wind goes on to its own stream
In the gold clouds of tomorrow rising
Like a summer of flowers gold sunbeam
Those from a fantasy world are actualizing
With flow in the evening rays
As the wind goes on to its own stream
And everything is in its twilight’s dream
When glow of the evening plays
With every agleam that as arisen your mind
In the flickering clouds dancing high
When those moments of days are left behind
In the night falling beyond starry sky
And the night fills with dark allays
*(lyric from 1 of my trance songs)
poem by Peter S. Quinn

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Where do they go? for M'lady Denise
A sky layered in lavender,
old rose and streaks of gold that glow.
Against approaching indigo
as night accepts day’s surrender.
The sun descends into the sea.
His task complete it’s time to rest.
As night achieves a slow conquest.
The colours will fade gradually
Tomorrow morning with the dawn
The pastel colours will return,
The Sun will rise to take his turn.
As in the east new day's born.
Where do the pretty colours go?
when darkness reigns. I do not know.
Saturday,03 July 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Two Awesome Magpies!
Illustrious silver pearls
Adorn mid-heaven's scene
Baptising one and all
So that each stares serene.
The busy day slows to a crawl
As beauty casts its spell -
For this is such a sight,
Gold memories to tell!
The glistening dewdrops settle
To nestle on the trees,
Each shimmering in sunshine,
Swayed by a gentle breeze...
Now tiny spectrums beckon
The magpies to draw near,
As if to say God's jewels display
The finest colours here!
The magpies glide down to the fence,
Our garden bath to use!
Not one but two, penguins with wings,
They wash away their blues!
We watch enthralled as each one sips
The gift of life itself...
Elixir-like it satisfies
Bestowing newborn health...
They're comfortable together,
As if love forms a bond!
Then off they go with gratitude!
Across the roofs beyond!
Like angels soaring, flying free,
Defeating gravity!
To leave us sighing, smiling...
What an awesome sight to see!
poem by Denis Martindale

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A Captivating Sight
The artist's brush scoops up the shades of green,
and creates a scene.
Trees, banks, deep valleys, fields and gentle hills,
how the picture fills.
Some vivid yellows in the sunshine's rays,
on his canvas, blaze.
Rich blue envisaged in the summer sky,
is the perfect dye.
Such subtle shadows to be applied in black,
require the knack.
The whole portrayal is a captivating sight,
with highlights, white.
Then somewhere you'll find a signature in grey,
inscribed - Manet.
poem by Ernestine Northover

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Haiku In Colours
van gogh
in the field
etching haiku
onto canvas
each stroke
a colourful haiku
for posterity
sunflowers
eleven brothers vie
for attention
the fortunate ones
coloured bright yellow
the rest resign
themselves to fate
bow humbly
and live in the others' shadows
eleven lucky blooms
worth more than a hundred millions
they do not fit into my pot
but in my heart they blaze in glory, always
van gogh's genius pours
unrelentingly
from eye to eye,
heart to heart
igniting the artist's passion
in each of us
once in a while, i too feel like
etching haiku in colours
encapsulating that extraordinary moment
ideas in wondrous colours, shapes and dreams
so that they too would turn out to be loving works of insanity
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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Coat Of Many Colors
(dolly parton)
Back through the years I go wondering once again
Back to the seasons of my youth
I recall a box of rags that someone gave us
And how my mamma put these rags to use
There were rags of many colours, and every piece was small
And I didnt have a coat and it was way down in the fall
Mamma sewed the rags together, sewing ever piece with love
She made my coat of many colours, that I was so proud of
As she sewed she told the story from the Bible she had read
About a coat of many colours, joseph wore and they she said
Perhaps this coat will bring you, much love and happiness
And I just couldnt wait to wear it, and mamma blessed it with a kiss
My coat of many colours that mamma made for me
Made only rags, but I wore it so proudly
Although we had no money. oh I was rich as I could be
In my coat of many colours, my mamma made for me
So with patches on my breaches and holes in both my shoes
In my coat of many colours, I hurried off to school
Just to find the others laughing and makin fun of me
In my coat of many colours, my mamma made for me
Oh, I couldnt understand it, for I felt I was rich
And I told them of the love my mamma sewed in ever stitch
And I told them all the story, mamma told me while she sewed
And how my coat of many colours is worth more than all of their clothes
They didnt under stand it and I tried to make them see
That one is only poor only if they choose to be
Now I know we have no money, but Im as rich as I could be
In my coat of many colours, my mamma made for me
In my coat of many colours, my mamma just made for me
song performed by by Emmylou Harris

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Garden Sunshine
GARDEN SUNSHINE
Garden which wild wilderness attested
Awash with colours now greets eye-in-dream.
Rich profusion prospers unprotested,
Dragonflies hover, honeybees here teem,
Enchants with wonder, pleasure uncontested,
Nature's splendour welcoming sun's beam.
SUNdry blooms here groomed, there random seem,
SHINE, rain, remain inspiring and unbested.
Grass lawn graceful, verdant, uncongested,
Assuages anguish. Nearby silver stream
Rich irrigation adds, as swan, glebe crested
Drift on lazy current. Joy supreme.
Evergreen and annuals unmolested
No high walls know, turn mind from urban theme.
SUNset scarlets, strawberry dawn scheme
SHIft NEts of light, draw cheerful robin nested.
acrostic GARDEN SUNSHINE 20 January 2009
robi03_1843_robi03_0000 AXX_NXX
Garden Sunshine poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin

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