Orange blossoms on a tree
Orange blossoms on a tree
catches my eye,
where it stands alone
in the inner city
and there’s a blinding bright sun
that is already hanging quarter height
in a cloudless sky.
It’s Wednesday and half week
and it’s spring with green leaves,
trees full of blossoms
and almost summer
because the sun’s bright rays
are already early hitting my eyes
There’s a woman with a pink blouse
and purple skirt,
that crosses the street
and are not looking out
for the oncoming cars and taxis.
Doves crowd around a man
that throws pieces of bread
on the ground next to him,
at the art museum
and the sun is now rather
bright white than red.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Night was coming
Night was coming
with a piercing huge orange sun
breaking through
white and black clouds
in the west.
It found a gap
and the sun was hanging
like a orange ball
above the street
and it was blinding.
Cars passed barely visible
above the orange glare
and some had already
turned their lights on.
The sun dipped down
below some trees
and for a time
it glowed behind them
and soon it would be dark
and the first stars
were already appearing
and a full yellow moon
was rising,
but below bright lights
was already burning
right across the city
in colours of amber
streetlights
green, yellow and red
traffic lights,
blue lights flashing
on police cars
and almost every bright colour
caught on neon signs
while people came and went
to different destinations
some smiling and relaxed,
others in a hurry
and some others
locked in a world of their own.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Daybreak is A Glowing Bright Ball
Daybreak is a glowing bright ball
from which the fiery rays shine,
sometimes drops falling along with thunder,
with freshness embracing me when I go outside.
Early morning is a bright sun hanging in the heaven
when the colour of the bright blue
catches you with something full of mystery,
with the wind sometimes clinging to you with fingers.
Spring is flower upon flower
that is spread over fruit trees,
the beauty that astonishes you
when the garden of God stretch into the fields.
Summer is fruit that waits ripe and luring
when everything becomes adult,
sunny day upon sunny day
where the prettiest flowers are still flowering.
Autumn is coloured leaves that are everywhere,
the summer still lingering for the last time
and everything has a secret knowledge
that winter is coming, even every sunray
and nowhere I can find the words of a child,
while I am blinded by the glorious world from being young.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A spring evening
Outside the irises flower yellow and purple
and I haven’t seen a red one yet
and there are some pink and white blossoms
on the fruit trees
and the streetlights burn continually
glowing orange-yellow
all day and all night
as if the municipality
does not know how to do things right
and in the fading evening light
the moon is full and white
and the evening star is already shining bright
and a hot breeze sweeps in
through the open windows
and I wonder when the first spring rain
is going to fall
and in the distance I see thunder
crashing down
in blue-white flashes, but the storm
is blown away and again the sky is clear
and the black speckled by stars.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Blossoms and My Love
The unusual winter warmth,
Has brought the spring fever in the nature and in my heart,
The pink, purple and white blossoms are blooming all around,
just reminding me of your warm and sensuous loving heart.
How can I compare your beauty with the spring blossoms?
In red blossoms, I see your luscious red lips,
In white blossoms, I see your beautiful body,
The purple blossoms, reminds me of the depth of your eyes,
Closer I get to the blossoms,
closer I get to the God's intricate creation,
Closer I get to your loving affection,
closer I watch the heavenly smiles on your lips.
Under the blossoming tree I walk,
the fragrance fills my love yearning heart,
When I hug you with my sincere love,
your sweet 'I love you' words, fills me with eternal love.
poem by Jay P Narain
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The Blossoms On The Trees
Blossoms crimson, white, or blue,
Purple, pink, and every hue,
From sunny skies, to tintings drowned
In dusky drops of dew,
I praise you all, wherever found,
And love you through and through--;
But, Blossoms On The Trees,
With your breath upon the breeze
There's nothing all the world around
As half as sweet as you!
Could the rhymer only wring
All the sweetness to the lees
Of all the kisses clustering
In juicy Used-to-bes,
To dip his rhymes therein and sing
The blossoms on the trees--,
'O Blossoms on the Trees,'
He would twitter, trill, and coo,
'However sweet, such songs as these
Are not as sweet as you--:
For you are blooming melodies
The eyes may listen to!'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Delicious Colors
Hot pink bubble gum
Bright orange sweet tarts
Lime green lolli pops
Bright red gummy bears
Baby blue cotton candy
Bright purple gumdrops
Highlighter yellow lemon heads
Bright peach jelly beans
poem by Natalie McCoy
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Cherry trees with snow
Sparkling in the bright sun
Red covered in white
Pink blossoms did not survive
The premature death of spring
tanka by Vega Destiny Star
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Seasons
I
As if summer will never end
irises are everywhere in the garden
with opening flower after flower
in light yellow, deep purple and rust-brown.
The bright hot sun hangs day after day
in a cobalt blue sky and even carnations, geraniums
and flame lilies are showing their beauty,
are still holding onto summer.
Doves are still cooing in the oak tree,
their are finches and sparrows cavorting up and down
and it’s as if nature is thwarting autumn
while dew is still shining on the leaves in the mornings
until later the sky becomes dull blue
while the sun is getting much more faint.
II
Slowly the leaves are falling
descending in different colours,
in one’s and two’s and later in a bigger number
tree-trunks become dark brown, red and some pallid
until every tree but for those that are evergreen stand skeleton,
the birds that remain sit next to each other shivering,
wishing for the winter to past
having difficulty to find seeds and other food
and the cold winter wind blows through everything,
filling the air with whirling dust clouds
with stripped branches flinging up and down
and everywhere leaves and branches lie in a jumble
until the wind dies down and the morning fog hangs like vapour,
at times only at noon is dispersed by the sun.
III
Days are cold and grey while the sun hides,
with a owl hunting during the day
searching for hungry mice sneaking around in the yellow grass
and all other signs of animal life is missing
but for doves sitting here and there
on telephone wires,
in disconsolation staring into the distance
and early mornings the grass is covered with white ripe
and it is as if every flower succumbs,
is shrinking crumpled and are folding close
until the first spring rain comes suddenly,
with sprouts and buds appearing and new flowers folding open
when fruit trees are covered with white, pink and yellow blossoms
and the sudden beauty takes your breath away.
poem by Gert Strydom
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My Drug Dealer
Today-
I asked myself.
Why are the oak tree’s purple?
And the grass blue?
Why is the sky green?
And the leaves hot pink?
Why is that gravel red?
And the rocks of that garden yellow?
Then I thought
and thought over again
a million times
and realized...
I’m high.
I’m up higher than the orange clouds in the green sky
My heart is as bright as the rocks of that garden
My thoughts are as eccentric as the hot pink color of the leaves
that fell from the purple tree
My eyelashes flutter flirtatiously like the way the wind
blows the blue blades of grass around.
Love is a drug,
and I’m high-
You happen to be my dealer.
poem by Breanna Schwartz
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Spring,2004
Spring is bursting
In the Air,
Flowers budding
Everywhere...
Magnolia Blossoms
Open wide,
Daffodills
Both yellow & white...
Spring is Special
Every year,
A Lilac fragrance
In the air...
Dogwoods blooming
Over night
Hyacinths,
So purple and bright...
Spring is here,
It's plain to see
Squirrels scampering
In the trees...
Birds are chirping
From above
Spring Miracles
We Share With Love...
poem by Carmen Strawn
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-60
Asiatic lily(Asiatic hybrid lily
Lilium x asiatica)
Deceptive your buds far farther
Like water lily as they look
In closer sight but true lilies
Divine really anywhere nearer
Ofcourse fragrant little mild
Some scentless albeit colourful
Leaves strappy on stems upright
Blossoms big and small and hybrid
Hybridized just to feast the eyes
Nay, the soul red, purple and white
Pink of blossoms bigger Oriental
In closer sight divine all lilies
Hybridized colourful to look better
Nay, sweeter gold, orange and white
Pink of blossoms smaller Asiatic
Divine naturally really so closer
poem by Indira Renganathan
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My Soul, Afire
The rising sun sets my soul afire
At the dawning of every new day-
I see life as a new beginning-
Cardinals, robins, blue jays and finches
Carry on with their tune as the
Orchestra of a gentle spring like breeze
Rustles the newly unfolded leaves upon every tree-
Alone to enjoy the mystery of the woodlands-
The sun’s rays shining through the
Branches of the maple trees-
Dogwood blossoms both crimson pink and white
Against a sky of cerulean blue
Evoke a chorus from my spirit-
A hymn of freedom and ecstasy, as
My spirit and soul have been reborn.
As the day progresses
I am overcome by fear and
At the noon of the day the sun rises above the mountains
The world comes out from hiding-
This is the time when strangers become invasive,
Clouds overtake the light and
The rain begins to fall.
Thunder would clap and rain would pour downward in a
Spitefully intrusive manner
Quenching the magical flames
That had my spirit and soul dancing to the
Early morning symphony that the world has
Maliciously taken aback-
When the night takes over
I see the full moon ascend over the horizon and the
Stars are bright-
The stars are bright and Mars is a brilliant red while
Venus winks at me with its eyes of green-
Stars and planets are gratifyingly beautiful in their own way, though
Light years away-
If I listen vigilantly-
I can hear ancient music imminent from
The stars and planets in the vastness of the universe as
The moon appears above the treetops-
It shines its light upon me and sets my spirit dancing and once again-
Sets my soul afire-
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Parousia
Love of my life, you
Are lost and I am
Young again.
A few years pass.
The air fills
With girlish music;
In the front yard
The apple tree is
Studded with blossoms.
I try to win you back,
That is the point
Of the writing.
But you are gone forever,
As in Russian novels, saying
A few words I don't remember-
How lush the world is,
How full of things that don't belong to me-
I watch the blossoms shatter,
No longer pink,
But old, old, a yellowish white-
The petals seem
To float on the bright grass,
Fluttering slightly.
What a nothing you were,
To be changed so quickly
Into an image, an odor-
You are everywhere, source
Of wisdom and anguish.
poem by Louise Gluck
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Underneath The Jacaranda Tree
On a windy day, I saw her standing there,
Underneath the jacaranda tree.
With purple blossoms in her hair,
Amidst a purple sea.
The purple reflected in her eyes,
As the clouds went rolling by.
I swear I could hear the angels cries,
From heaven's throne on high.
Underneath the jacaranda tree,
A little fountain ran.
With crystal waters running pure and free,
The purest in the land.
In the fountain she dipped her hand,
In crystal waters cold and fine.
And let water drip on the sugar white sands,
Long ago when she was mine.
The jacaranda tree withstood the test of time,
It has grown old along with me.
The purple blossoms still wax divine,
They rain down falling free.
And the wind blew through the boughs,
Of the jacaranda tree.
Raining purple like it still does now,
But she is gone from me.
When the jacaranda tree blooms in the spring,
And purple blossoms fill the sky.
I hear her and the angels when they sing,
Somewhere in heaven, way up high.
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Autumn Fair
You long to see bright Autumn days,
With colorful leaves on yonder trees
In tones of yellow, orange and red
Before Nature's annual freeze.
The colors will burst in every direction,
The tree boughs no longer are green,
Nuts dropping to the leaf strewn ground
Where large, orange pumpkins now are seen.
You long want to see the hues of an Autumn Fair
And the bright sun rising above the distant hill.
You long feel the coolness on your cheeks,
to hear the wind's steady shrill.
Autumn waves her magic wand,
The aroma of leaves you will consume,
The enchanting days of summer are gone,
The land is overwhelmed by Nature's perfume.
There are memories of other Autumn days
That your heart will recall as you ponder,
The gigantic trees and the dropping leaves
As they gave you a special moment of wonder.
But now - you sit before a window
Watching the soft and steady precipitation,
Far from the picturesque Autumn days -
Snow accumulating without any hesitation.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Anniversary (November 24)
The treasure of trees
golden mounds
on the green ground.
Urged by the morning sun
yellow leaves
coruscate in chilled air
radiant
with the afterglow of a summer
well lived.
But thirty-two years ago
the light died
when dark death’s hand
seized your struggling heart.
We buried you,
bright treasure,
under still
green grass.
The mud from your grave
clung to our shoes
as we wept our grief
in bright puffs of white breath
ascending like incense
into the good sky.
And thirty-two years later
I still choke on bitter sorrow.
Tears
still sting my eyes.
But looking through the bright window,
I see in November’s gold,
a faint reflection
of the enduring glory
that lights your
endless day.
poem by Steven Federle
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Bright White Light
Totally out of it
Out of Control
Raised out of my shell
Raised higher upwards
To the Bright White light
Thumping of the skull
Against thy brains
Weightlessly ponder the
Depth and height of thy mind
In the Bright White light
Enlightened above
Shown crystal clear
Are other reasons of notions
The truth is lain before thee
By the Bright White light
Lost alone in a crowd
Distanced from the others
They said it would go
Away but it’s still me
And the Bright White light
poem by Stephen Beckett
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Fashion sense for M'lady Ann Beard
The trees bedecked with blossom now.
Some clad in pink and some in white.
Contestants in the beauty show
which spring provides for our delight
The blossoms which adorn he trees
are unaware, they do not know.
That very soon the gentle breeze
will shake them loose to fall like snow.
The trees will don new coats of green.
More suited to the summer sun
than what the blossoms would have been
Their time has passed so they have gone.
When autumn comes the trees will know
its time to wear their winter clothes
In preparation for the snow.
The theme of winters beauty show.
Though seasons come and seasons go.
The trees adapt quite easily
for summers sun or winters snow
They’re sure to be dressed suitably.
29/04/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Colours
a rainbow has many colours which mean different things,
to different poeple,
red could mean love or danger,
yellow could mean the summer sun that rises,
pink could mean that they are happy,
green could mean the colour of the leaves on a tree,
orange could mean the atumn days or the sunset,
purple could mean peace and harmony,
blue could mean sadness or the colour of the sea,
so the next time you see a rainbow take a look and,
think what it means to you,
allow yourself time to remember the happy days that you,
have had,
your future could be as bright as the rainbow,
you have seen,
poem by Sharron Stephenson
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Spring
Spring appears with yellow mango blossoms everywhere;
Bay-leaf trees with tiny silvery blossoms bear.
Cuckoos melody from mango groves reverberates in the sky;
Poets become enthused with peace and inspiration high.
Tiny birds twittering in the sky fill the poet’s minds with ease;
Green leaves dance with the mild vernal breeze.
Fragrant yellow blossoms invite the bees for a kiss;
For these honey-seekers, its nature given bliss.
Sun rays falling on earth make it alluringly rosy;
The rays make the earth-dwellers warm and cosy.
The wavy streams flow down with a melodious muttering;
The green forest all around is most enchanting.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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