Pastel ribbons of an evening sky
Another day has come to an end
A palette so beautiful it can make you cry
We can’t wait to do it again
Some were born, some fell in love and others have walked on
Laughter and tears make a full day
and fill our dreams between sunset and the dawn
Pastel ribbons of a morning sky
Announce a new day has arrived
A chance to chase the dreams we set aside
The sun on our face makes us feel alive
The clouds seem to be on fire
They fill your soul and make your spirit fly
We can’t help but be inspired
By the pastel ribbons across the sky
Where sky and landscape meet creating the perfect picture
Oh, pretty pastel lion with your puffy cheeks
Beauty is in your colors, your eyes green as creeks.
A mere description is not enough to show your worth.
I hear you have admirers from Kenya to Perth.
I wonder about your heritage your fur is so true.
With a gorgeousness about it in both pink and blue.
Oh pretty pastel lion, you are what we talk about.
However, we do not want to meet you on our walk-about.
Pastel shades of morning,
glow as dark wanes to light.
Colors brushed in the skies
in peach and lilac tones
as dawn begins to rise.
Pastel shades of morning,
are emboldened by noon.
Inflamed as if on fire,
shining ever brighter
as sunbeams fly higher.
Pastel shades of morning,
darken throughout the day.
Amber honey hue wends,
deepens as hours go by
before the sun descends.
Pastel shades of morning,
suddenly reappear
when sunlight starts to fade.
'Fore drowning in the sea
soft colors will cascade.
Pale pastel blue nails
As blue as translucent sea,
Waves pale as white sails,
Complimentary to toes
Matching my summer beach clothes.
Soars Soars
Sparrows borrows
Leaves on greens
Shrubs and scrubs
Tender so Feathering
Flowering
Shapes & shades
Brightly blurred
Colorful beautiful
Constant nectar
Sparrows slips into flower
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023
pastel llama you think you are all that
you put on airs in front of the dog and the cat
you feel superior; you are fluffy and phat
we are not fooled by you said my brother Matt.
Ignore him please, I told my beautiful Llama.
When she returned from store, I would tell my mama.
Matt is always being mean, maybe he has hidden drama?
I spent the rest of the morning reassuring my llama.
A flash, the first strike;
I want to be where you are,
nothing more or less;
Feeling all of your impact
I’m not ready to let go;
Memories can’t last
like this dramatic image;
Instantaneous;
Streak sparkling in the darkness
an indented frozen line;
Take a slow step back
undisciplined rotation!
Pastel colors stay;
Oh, I could get used to this;
I don’t want to end today.
I caught him staring at me
From the corner of my eyes
I turned to a cloud’s mist
His eyes had a grey pastel sadness
A white fog had drifted downwards
And covered his weather beaten face
A light vapour seemed to seep
Through his portrait, a sadness
That even Atlas could not lift
His misery seeped out and
Took hold of me, I looked away
But I had already painted myself
In his shades of grey, my eyes filled
Courtouring away my pain
Colours had no place here today!
7.6.22
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Contest Name: The Pastel
An old man looks deeply into my soul
His piercing blue eyes disquietingly seek
What is written there on my life scroll,
An accomplished man of purpose, meek.
A fine pastel she has lovingly sketched
Another time, another place he and I,
Likely over a beer, would’ve kvetched
On many topics, oft seeing eye to eye.
I would’ve respected his keen insight
He has the look of one who is worthy,
Man of his word, his lips pressed tight
Hard-working he is, so clearly earthy.
I think he might have been a seafarer
Comfortably draped in a gray slicker,
I suspect that he speaks with a burr
Bright, quick-witted, not one to bicker.
Written June 6, 2022
Submitted to "The Pastel" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
Dawn painted morning's horizon with a blush.
Beauty I see when I wake gives me such a rush.
Shades of cornsilk yellow, lavender and peach,
but far too distant to ever be within my reach.
As Japanese cherry blossoms bloom pink,
Spring dabbles in assorted pastel shades.
When April rains offer the soil a drink,
water trickles as it flows and cascades.
Spring dabbles in assorted pastel shades,
purple crocus, and yellow daffodils.
Water trickles as it flows and cascades,
and green grass colors the valleys and hills.
Purple crocus and yellow daffodils,
pushing through the soil, summoned by the sun.
And green grass colors the valleys and hills,
for Winter lies defeated; Spring has won.
Pushing through the soil, summoned by the sun,
wildflower blooms carpet the forest floor.
For Winter lies defeated; Spring has won,
and Nature rearranges the decor.
Wildflower blooms carpet the forest floor
when April rains offer the soil a drink.
And Nature rearranges the decor
as Japanese cherry blossoms bloom pink.
(Pantoum)
05/12/2022
A RHYMING PANTOUM OF FIVE STANZAS Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
Your eyes are like the sunrise,
Coloured with the palest greens and blues
Of a pastel rainbow sky.
Your eyes have always mesmerized me,
For they are coloured like shades of a sea,
So beautiful, they are, to me.
cream is on the rose
pale blue skies have chiffon clouds
lemon sun, lilacs
pale buds opening
champagne sand and sea frothing
pink daisies dreaming
peach blooms in shadows
she is waking from her nap
in the heart of spring
***My Day Yesterday***
Woke at 5 a.m., but oddly then forgot
To gaze alert to the sun’s rising.
Went for my bi-yearly do at the beauty
Salon where a young woman tired her arm
Waving a wand over me for nearly three
Hours. I emerged mesmerized, merry,
But of course, not like I once was,
For the once-and-future dreams don’t
Endure, tho do abide other ambits.
I opined on my decline as I pet the pups, passing hours
Choosing fabrics while I listened to TV
News to be sure Europe was still there;
Had sweet potatoes and salmon for
Supper, which I think I thought was luncheon;
Handled emails with friends; heard
Two-dozen scam phone calls ring on unanswered;
Looked out my window, so sad as I’d missed
The fall of dusk; sighed; reached for
A pastel at midnight — too late to begin
— I sent hushed regrets to my canvas;
Pulled over my blanket with a prayer
Unable to recall closing my eyes.
——————————————————————————————
(c) sally youngeslinger 2/11/22
Thanks be to God…
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