Categories
Africa folklore lifestyle Nature Pastoral Poetry

If you let me paint

So if you let me paint the world,
I would imagine the sunrise over wheat fields
And fast approaching evening when birds fly home

Categories
Poetry

Amuse: Three Things

Three things still baffles me
A crab, walking like an undecided drunk, a tip to the left
And then like a call back to his senses, a step to his right
A herd of goats and sheep, giving a familiar stare,
One might think they knew him from somewhere
An ant, very wise to store for the winter
But hungry enough to die by melting sugar

Categories
Poetry

Green

Green is the color of life,
Of dew descent upon tree leaves
And branches,
Of forests blessed with floral things
And many beings that fly on wings
And plumages

Categories
Uncategorized

Colors, the First part

Colors are very beautiful
They tell a lot about all;
And a little about this and that
The ocean, the sun
The mice that live across
The busy street roads
Or the golden corn field
And the wild, the deserts
And the ice of Antarctica
Colors describe our feelings
Red with rage
The royal purple…

Each day wakes with colors
Take the flowers as an example,
Some grow so pale like the purple
And some, like the blessed color of harvest
Gold, the suns’ face upon a field of wheat

The soft and mild wind move about, quietly
Up the great green trees where the pretty birds live
And on the grey soil where the mushrooms thrive
But none is able to paint her till this day
Why? I wonder, but none can truly say

Okay let us paint a color, a fair one
Just any color which comes to mind
Flaunt the blues, make a little mound
Of nice sweet dreamy hue of orange
With a bunch of hogs walking to forage

Okay, let us talk about the eye hues
About the red that signifies danger
And the blood-shot eyes of the Hyena
Brown, that makes all images muddy
And to me seems a lot more nasty

What if there was a color of feelings?
Now let us try to paint a color of love
Like a surge of water upon the wharf
How amazing it is to add a drop of ruby
A humble hue, just for you and me?

Categories
Poetry

Color called dirt

There’s no color called dirt but that of the earth

It is the hue that gives life yet it drags on the floor

It gives a humid stench when it cakes up on water

And tastes man’s grief when we lose a loved one

Categories
Poetry

Colors

Colors are very beautiful
They tell a lot about all;
And a little about this and that
The ocean, the sun
The mice that live across
The busy street roads
Or the golden corn field
And the wild, the deserts
And the ice of Antarctica
Colors describe our feelings
Red with rage
The royal purple…

Each day wakes with colors
Take the flowers as an example,
Some grow so pale like the purple
And some, like the blessed color of harvest
Gold, the suns’ face upon a field of wheat

The soft and mild wind move about, quietly
Up the great green trees where the pretty birds live
And on the grey soil where the mushrooms thrive
But none is able to paint her till this day
Why? I wonder, but none can truly say

Okay let us paint a color, a fair one
Just any color which comes to mind
Flaunt the blues, make a little mound
Of nice sweet dreamy hue of orange
With a bunch of hogs walking to forage

Okay, let us talk about the eye hues
About the red that signifies danger
And the blood-shot eyes of the Hyena
Brown, that makes all images muddy
And to me seems a lot more nasty

What if there was a color of feelings?
Now let us try to paint a color of love
Like a surge of water upon the wharf
How amazing it is to add a drop of ruby
A humble hue, just for you and me?

Categories
Poetry

The Rainbow, 1st

1

The rainbow is my favorite color 

Her beauty radiates upon the cloud

Dressed like a man wearing a talisman

Savoring the scent of the sweet airs, 

A mirage because the rain won’t fall after all

2
There sits the rainbow across the firmaments

Watching quietly, observing the rules of the airs

Belittling the heights of the hills and mountains

Shading the greenery with a new look of aura

One to be seen in a long while, a perfect acquaintance 

3
The green is spirogyric, fading with the suns heat

The blues are epileptic, exploding without remorse

The yellows invisible, trying to hide from the group

And the red, painful, like a heartbroken soul 

The colors mingle with one another, raising hopes

The green fields of wheat turn gold with time

The dirt path glowing each time the rain goes

Image from https://media.mnn.com/assets/images/2016/07/Rainbow-Stretching-Hilly-Forest-Mountains.jpg.638x0_q80_crop-smart.jpg