A Masterpiece, The Evening Sky
A masterpiece is the evening sky
Clouds, like pink shreds of cotton candy
Blended, with hues of lavender
And golden-caramel, like Brandy
Red auburn lines the far horizon
Where the sun sinks slowly down
Fiery, the afterglow
Illuminating from its crown
The greatest painter of the heavens
Hath beauty, again unfurled
Every canvas is admired
By eyes gazing from the world
poem by Bryce Edward Coast
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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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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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In Lavender And Green
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With bells about your feet,
And music in your step,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With sunshine in your eyes,
And springtime in your hair,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With softness in your words,
And healing in your touch,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With your name upon my lips,
And delight within your kiss,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green,
In dreams at midnight’s rest,
Or afternoon’s recline?
Come then to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green,
At the setting of the sun,
When my days are nearly run?
Still come to me in lavender and green?
Will you come to me in lavender and green,
If I wait at heaven’s door,
As I waited once before,
While you walked to organ’s tune,
On a summer’s afternoon.
Now dressed in springtime hues?
My love, companion, muse,
A vision still I see,
Dressed in lavender and green.
poem by Greg Davidson
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The Canvas
Oh how she loves her canvas,
The stories that it tells.
Oh how she loves to paint her thoughts,
And etch a perfect spell.
Oh how she loves her canvas,
The memories that it holds.
Oh how she loves to trace the lines,
And tell if new or old.
Oh how she loves her canvas,
Her stability in an unstable world.
Oh how she loves to fret away,
At all of her unfurled.
Oh how she loves her canvas,
A standstill of art and truth.
Oh how she loves the feel of it,
To reminisce her youth.
Oh how she loves her canvas,
A long work of her life.
Oh how she loves the twisted colors,
Splashes of red upon white.
Oh how she loves her canvas,
She crafts each inch with care.
She hides her canvas well away,
Though she often earns a stare.
Do not tell of her canvas,
Keep the secret- she insists.
But perhaps some time take a second glance,
For her canvas is her wrist.
poem by Dayna Mortimore
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Cotton Candy Land
(words & music by ruth batchelor - bob roberts)
Sandmans comin, yes hes comin
To sprinkle you with sand
Hell say one, two, three
And youll be, in cotton candy land
Sandmans comin, yes hes comin
Hell take you, by the hand
And youll ride upon, a big white swan
In cotton candy land
You and the swan will float upon
A cloud of pink ice cream
Where every star is a candy bar
And the moon is a marshmallow dream
Sandmans comin, yes hes comin
Take his magic hand
Now goodnight...now sleep tight
In cotton candy land
In cotton candy land...
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet 24: “Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled…”
Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled,
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart,
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective it is best painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill,
To find where your true image pictured lies,
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes:
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done,
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,
They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Sonnet 24: Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled
Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective it is best painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill
To find where your true image pictured lies,
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazèd with thine eyes.
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee.
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art:
They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Cotton Candy Clouds
Big billowy clouds float by,
Like so much cotton candy.
Gently floating through the sky,
Just as pretty, as they can be.
Some are grey, some are white,
The tops extend forever.
Cotton candy in the heights,
Pursuing their endeavors.
12/28/10
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Cotton cany kisses
Mixed in taste
is a touch of Peach Brandy
and kisses flavored
like cotton candy
with panoramic views
in luminescent hues
from atop a Ferris Wheel.
Calliopes made
the Monkeys dance
while Pipers played
and Poodles pranced
pleasured feelings grew
which upon I drew
this goodness I did feel
Sunrise to Sunset.......
Sun shines slowly on the horizon,
Rising from the gloomy dawn;
Morning dew shies away,
Misty clouds make way;
Hot noon and evening,
Illuminating things living;
As twilight sets in soon,
Dawn brings in moon;
Cool breeze so rustic,
Makes me feel mystic.
poem by Manjeshwari P MYSORE
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Maybe I am looking at Eve
Two paintings
look back at me:
The one girl is shy
and stripped to her middle
with auburn hair
covering a breast
and the other
hanging round and firm
tipped by
a pink brown nipple.
The big eyes of the other
are greener than grass
and laurel is wreathed
through her auburn hair
hanging in strings
of a fairy like girl
whose complexion
glows pink and alive
and she’s dressed
in big green leaves
holding some purple lavender
in a unseen hand
and I like to think
that both paintings
shows the same girl
and maybe
I am looking at Eve.
[Reference: Keys to your heart and Fairy Queen by Mandi Engelbrecht. (These paintings belongs to me.) ]
poem by Gert Strydom
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On a Sunlit Night
Tonight I walk outside alone,
Hoping for autonomy from the world's intruders-
The sky appears as dark as night can be but
Tonight the moon is hiding and I believe I see pink and purple clouds
Tip-toeing out from the darkness, as the stars are disappearing,
Are fading behind these clouds,
I believe I see the sun- as its rays are fighting their way
Through the clouds, and pushing the darkness aside-
It is only an hour past midnight and
The trees are tall and golden, some are touching the sky.
I hear wild geese calling and I can feel the gentle late spring breeze, as it
Rustles the silken blue-green leaves upon the trees-
While I rejoice being safe in my solitude.
I am alone on a sunlit night, on a trail leading toward
That phantasmal land of my utmost dreams-
Branches upon the trees, golden or copper shaded
Are sparkling with dew as would be polished diamonds-
I sing songs of peace with the cicadas- releasing my fears to the wind.
As I behold the splendor of the sun against magenta-pink clouds, as it
Rises above the mountains, purple in their hue, I can see
A rainbow on the horizon, and the creek nearby sparkling and reflecting the light.
I am wondering if I have lost touch with all that is real, for
I have never seen pink clouds, purple mountains or a rainbow,
While the sun shines upon this world in the dead of night-
I am enraptured with the magnificence of this sunlit night, and
I have found freedom from the war my thoughts continually carry on,
The voices inside of mind are presently not cruelly commanding, but
Carrying on miraculously beautiful tunes from far away places-
I may have escaped reality or perhaps I am only dreaming, although
I feel as if I have abandoned my plight, and whatever the reason for
This amazing journey I am on, whether real or imagined -the reason hardly matters as
I have found all of the pleasure, placidity and freedom from pain and anguish.
Even if I were to awaken from this reverie, the fond memory shall always remain,
I shall close my eyes and will be able to relive
My phenomenal journey beneath pink and purple clouds of fortune, and
That special rainbow on the horizon illuminating the sky on that astonishing sunlit night.
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Her Candy Cotton Kiss
Her candy cotton kiss
Her taste so warm and wet
Her cotton candy lips
I'll never them forget
Her cotton candy kiss
Sends shivers down my spine
I tremble at her touch
With love and grace divine
poem by Bradley Lester
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Pixie Caramel Skies
I love Pixie Caramel, because
it’s the chewiest, grooviest, sweet
on the street; I crave to eat.
Here’s the habit; reach out; grab it.
Pixie Caramel, is the greatest,
you’ll love the original and the latest.
Try it now, do yourself a favour,
Pixie Caramel, the taste to savour.
Pixie Caramel, the one to try,
run, run; go out and buy.
You must have it! Chew it! Or die!
Happiness enfolds - Pixie Caramel Skies.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Dusk and Dying
Dusk purple trees reach out high,
Gently brushing the Cotton Candy sky,
The nostalgic horizon passes by
And time races toward the time to die.
And I cannot help but wonder “But Why”?
Time is simply passing by, passing by,
Passing by….
But does it pause for me? Not I.
For me time simply passes by,
Like these leaves that patch this somber sky,
Time simply passes by
Like these leaves that have dried,
Skipping over the concrete, so spry.
“Simply live and let live! ” I try,
But life and living keep passing me by.
So, as my verse so aptly implies,
Whether I live, or whether I die,
I simply bid you fond goodbyes,
Like the sun as it sinks ‘low the cotton candy skies…
poem by Rachel L. Moore
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Scar of Scars
Scar of Scars.
Around the cut, some are smooth.
Moist and true.
Bereft of moss or beard.
Pie faced and candy..ooh.
Every life savers.
Candy cake is brandy wine.
More, many more and edgy.
Leafy rims pink petaled.
Sharp razors, just more sweat and juicy.
Either way it's coming in,
Through the floor.
and your consciousness is expanded.
Red faced and over the clouds the moon
does look closely down,
and Scar of Scars, dropps drippy more milky.
There is only one cup from every one, some
have two and being with certain preference's.
poem by Is It Poetry
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Sunset at Scarborough
When you saw
The Golden Sun
Setting on the Sea
At Scarborough
And you thought of me, my love
I felt wonderful…
Being a part of the text
That you sent me
Being a part of your memory
As you remembered me…
Being a part of that
Moment in Time
When the Golden Sun
Was setting
On the Sea
At Scarborough.
As you stood there
In the Balcony
On the 22nd Floor
Of your Hotel-Room
Gazing at the
Swirling waters of the Sea
Radiant and Vibrant
In the oranges and reds
Of the Setting Sun’s
Majestic Charisma -
The waves and the tides
Playing hide and seek
With the lovely bright colours
Of the Setting Sun’s
Enchanting Enigma
I thought of your eyes…
Yes – those very beautiful
Eyes of yours,
With those long eyelashes
That make your eyes
All the more expressive, deep
And enchanting…
Like the Setting Sun’s
Ethereal Beauty
In that evening sea
At Scarborough
I felt like kissing those eyes…
Yes – those very same eyes
Tired and aching
After a hard day’s work
Seeking some relaxing moments
To rejuvenate itself
In the Setting Sun’s
Evening Glory…
On the Scarborough Sea
Before they again endure
Another ordeal of
Another Day’s
Hard Work.
So my love, please accept my kisses…
For they are truly meant for you
More so, for those lovely eyes of yours
Hope these kisses of mine
Help to preserve your wonderful memories
Of the setting sun’s myriad hues
What a beautiful way to bid adieus…
As it goes deep down
Far beyond the horizon
Into the lows and highs
Of the waves and tides
On the Scarborough Sea.
And here across the miles
I wait for that auspicious moment, my love
When you and me together
Will sit and talk and share…
Of how you felt at Scarborough
And how I felt being there with you
In my thoughts, dreams
And fantasies…
And as you’ll unravel
Those preserved memories
Of the Setting Sun’s
Myriad Glories…
I’ll listen and ponder
Like a child in wonder!
Wondering at the Sun’s
Colourful Hues
Those Brilliant Views
OR
Wondering at the Splendour
Of you being there before me
With your beautiful eyes
For me to see…
You - the Radiant Sun for me
And I - the deep, deep sea
Waiting for you to set on me…
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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PINK and GOLD Ribbons
These are the thoughts as my eyes see
Pink and gold ribbons calling me.
In the early morning rising I run to my window
And peer toward the far horizon
To see ribbons in the sky delighting my eye,
Bands of pink outlining oak and evergreen
This is the prettiest sight I've ever seen.
The pink precedes golden ribbons now appearing
Stretching wider into bands of color nearing
The onset of the sun so big, bright and beautiful
In daily praise and thanksgiving I am dutiful.
On a cloud-filled morning, no sun adorning
I know far above the gray and stormy cloud
Are angels in joyful chorus aloud
Waiting for me to join in their singing
And my own soul finds itself winging
Through the clouds, through pink ribbons
Through golden bands toward the Son
When my earthly life is done
My soul He has won.
Such are the thoughts as my eyes see
Pink and gold ribbons calling me.
© Mel Patterson,1-2-08
poem by Mel Patterson
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Keys to your heart
There’s a painting of a beautiful shy girl
with a bunch of rust brown keys,
that she holds
and I know that her painter
can always unlock my hart.
When I walk into our bedroom
she watches me
with her dark eyes
and at times I wonder
if her cheeks are naturally red
and if she is blushing,
because I am looking at the pink brown hard nipple
of her perfect breast.
Her beauty stays with me
and at times I look at the fine detail
of the two violet roses,
that is fresh in her auburn hair.
No person can ever
get her away from me
as she belongs to me
and I hope and pray,
that it stays like that
with her painter and me.
[Reference: Keys to your heart. Partly nude by Mandi. Look at the picture on my web page: http: //www.mabooki.com/poems/display/1414_Keys_to_your _heart.htm]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Man And Bottle
Just an empty brandy bottle by the door
An empty bottle standing on the floor
Last week 'twas worth a carpenter's day's pay
But now it isn't worth taking away.
Last week 'twas full of brandy to the top
But in it now there's not a single drop
Just like a candy box without the candy
What value a brandy bottle without brandy?
The man who drank the brandy he is dead
Like all dead men a pine box is his bed
He rests in peace where all dead people lay
Six foot under graveyard earth and clay.
He drank the brandy and then drove his car
But alas the poor man did not travel far
His car left the road and crashed against a tree
And with his life he paid for gluttony.
Next time you're in a bar and have to drive a car, do think
Hard liquor is a thing you ought not drink
Spare a thought for the poor man who drank the brandy
And ask the publican for a beer shandy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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