earth’s favorite color is spring
spring’s best-loved color is green
and green himself loves to party
with yellow, red, orange, and pink
red
Autumn’s clock
In the wheel of Earth’s years
we watch as Autumn’s clock
Tick-tocks in tiny goldenrod
September petal’d seconds
Frosty trees bleed scarlet hours
through veins of October leaves
Amber minutes wither and fall
drifting in November’s breeze
And the silent strike of midwinter
turns December’s snowflake gears
Spring is so —
Spring is so damn pink!
O yes, it’s vibrantly green
and greenly vibrant too—
reds burst, oranges blaze
yellows beam like the sun
violet dazzles vivid delight
blue paints the entire sky—
but the thing that thrills
my soul the most is that
Spring is so damn pink!
Poetry of spring
Springtime is a poet —
the blue sky its blank page
so vibrant green in rhyme
a different metre for every clime
birds chirping to keep the time
wildflowers yellow, red, purple divine
words dancing on tall blades of grasses
sparkling in the morning dews
no commas the flow keeps buzzing
vernal dashes & blossoming branches
on newly greening verdant trees
refrains whispering in each breeze
butterflies — floating apostrophes
ladybugs dot floral question marks
blissful bees stray stanza to stanza
seeds disperse from verse to verse
continuing a poem that’s never ended
and into summer’s colors is blended
Rainbow’ish
Red is passion-lit, pink is lipsensual, orange is flowerageous, yellow is suntastic, green is lifebursting, blue is skyful, purple is berrydancing,
Seasonal wisdom
learn from leaves
green is go —
yellow & red
slow down, stop
take time to rest
Lit de mort coloré
Autumn leaves blaze their swan song of color and wait for Winter to wipe the slate clean.
Listen to the colors
Purple is the soul-lifter
Red, the flame of passion
Yellow, the light of warmth
Green, vibrant stem of life
Pink, a whisper of beauty
Orange beckons, take a chance
Blue is the sea tide in us all
Vernal ode to euphony
nests bustling in leafy trees
eggs cracking open tenderly
vernal music on the breeze
excitement buzzing busily
tree roots drinking merrily
underground working tirelessly
restless flowers pacing weeds
manufacturing aromatherapies
reds purples yellows greens
poppies blooming endlessly!
Watching the April bottlebrush without spectacles
green & light shimmering
dancing in the sunlight
little red fuzzy flames
burn quietly in the breeze
mottled blue patches
of serene springtime sky
blaze beautifully behind
a lively bejeweled scene
medallions of shade and color
twinkle in the afternoon
a mama hummingbird hovers
with wings so fast, silence
is no longer golden — she is
the sounds of the winds
overtake my soul and
carry it far off into the skies
—Terri Guillemets
Infinite realities
If something is just plain red, how do we know that it isn’t actually red with red