Orange

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Orange is sharp, orange is zesty,                                                         bright like the sun, full of sweetness.

Orange is clay, terracotta, rusty.                                                         Iron oxidized, turned into ochre.

Orange is fire, hot lava pouring,                                                         burning with heat, spitting out rocks.

Orange a mixture of red and of yellow,                                            painting the sky in a deep sunset glow.

Orange is warmth and spice in food,                                                 saffron in rice, turmeric too.

Let Orange be free, paint with it, see –

It’s colour reminds me to be happy…

Green

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Green is the colour of air and growth, oxygen and life.

Without Green we have no breath. Our lungs are starved of 21 percent.

Photosynthesis brings life, gas, food, and clean water. Blue needs Green to make turquoise pools and seas.

The leaves of trees that clean pollution, algae that feed the oceans. Green is life, on hills and valleys, boughs that leap up to the sky.

Green if lost is death to Earth. Green men, green women, green children, without green we are gone. Without it we cannot exist. Hold green tight and keep it safe. or desert will replace us all.

I think this is a bit jumbled up. I dont know whether to use blank verse. I am a bit out if my depth but I want to try. X

Blue

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Drawing this made the white of my screen appear orange when I had finished it.

Orange is Blues contrasting colour, but Blue can be warm or cold, but you don’t often hear of Cold Orange unless it is juice out of the fridge… anyway here us another Mad, Bad, poem….

I am BLUE, you too? Are you blue with cold?

Are your lips blue?  and are  you feeling old?

SKY is blue, cerulean too, depending on the view.

SEA itself can be quite blue with turquoise or greenish hue.

Notes fall up and then crawl down, JAZz can be real blue.  a complicated time for you…life can reallymake you BLUE

Blue BIRDS sing, make notes ring,

Blue of a cloudless sky,

we wish, all the summer through.

Red

Red is bold!

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Red blood, red heart

Red lips, red nose,

Red wine, red hat,

Red berries, red shoes…

 

I saw you smile, your mouth so neat,

Red cherries dripped their liquor sweet.

 

Red is the colour of anger and heat,

Red hot poker, flower, meat.

 

Red is gaudy, little red hood,

Red for strawberries, red for bud.

Red for roses, red says stop,

Red for danger, red for what?

 

I dont know what else to write,  I can think of names for red, like carmine and crimson, vermilion and scarlet, close to red are mauve and magenta. I found it difficult to write something that makes much sense I’m afraid. But at least I tried. ..

Yellow

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I think I might do some poems about colours…..

Yellow

Banana,

Gold,

Lemon,

Custard,

Nice things are made of this….

But..

Pus

Bile

Lava

Can be nasty too!

Yellowish green, orangey yellow, pale, dark, umber, sand….

Sunshine, egg yolk, khaki, cadmium, sulphur, icecream

And vanilla…

Yellow lights up our life, heat in the desert, fire in dream.

Never shadowed

Adorned, arisen , shone.

Eye dont know!

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Playing with apps,                                                                                  dreaming in naps,                                                                                   I see your eyes…                                                                                                                                  ,,                       what a surprise!

I see your lips                                                                                          like pomegranate pips……..

I see your nose                                                                                                                                      ,,                   the beauty it shows!

I see a face, hidden in lace                                                                   historical place,                                                                                                                                  ,,                   wonderful Grace.

 

Just playing with rhyme,                                                                       enjoying this time .

 

Time ticks by for Ash..

 

An Ash tree in the garden is being taken down because it is too close to the house and its crown was also reaching wide. The branches (which some say look like witches fingers) were scraping on the upstairs landing window.

I feel like it should have an epitaph to mark its removal…

Here stands the limbs of Ash,                                                               waiting to be felled, the rest of it,                                                       long branches and twigs, already gone,                                            resting on the ground, used as fuel, burnt in stoves.

Ash is now ashes. Time has ticked…

That tree once tiny, New, planted from a seed.                   Moved with us from our former home when we came here,  planted with love,  2 foot high… grew with us..

Tick…but time moves on… Tock.

Witches fingers scratch the glass. It only took 25 years,               Ash is tall now, many stemmed, reaching out and up.                  I wish tall, slender tree, that you could stay,                                  but your leaves block light and Sun.

Your TIME has come, I am sad indeed.                                             But you are only one, a Walnut bearing fruit stands near, two Cherry trees, one Pear. There are small  Apple trees with blossom on, their fruit now soon to bear.

I see you cut down, still quite young, I do feel pain indeed.          I know that Oak and Plum and Holly also grow out there.        Perhaps you will forgive the blade that took your mighty crown                                                                                                 and understand my tears. It is a moment’s work to take away   your years.

Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock…..

My life has sped, as you have grown, the time has gone so fast  … in so few years and yet long…then mine will also end.

I’m not really good at verse, and putting my feelings into words is difficult in this situation. I want to describe how sad I am to have the tree removed, but it will allow light in. The area under it has always been ever shady. There is also deep shade from a holly tree, and further down the garden a large laurel bush. I want to get more flowers in for the bees. But I will miss the Ash…. I know its a tree, not a person, but we are all cut down by time…seed, sapling, mature tree, then possibly the disease of age takes over…and our time too will be done.