Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Veritia Venandi Jul 2020
The roses of my garden were a shade of burgundy...
And lo! the blood in my veins too...!

How the burgundy wind sweeps the burgundy curls of my hair...
Oh, it's ethereal!

I write my histories under a burgundy roof...
The same roof that hides me from the wrath of burgundy clouds...!

A burgundy river flows by... Painting a burgundy canvas...!

Is it not that when you are in love, you tend to see your lover everywhere...!
And in my case...

My lover is "Burgundy"...!
~Venandi
Who has laid the rule that your lover has to be a person?
You can indeed be so verily in love with a colour! ❤
Thank u for reading!
Arisa Mar 2019
Seven spotted ladybird,
Dancing in my mind.

Its shade a deep burgundy,
with a slight shine that sparkled
under the soft rays of the sun.

It wobbled its way across the hood of car.
And I poked it gently,
Making it clumsily fall on its back in the driveway.

I cupped the tiny thing in my hands,
And eventually, it flew away.
A poem about my experience with a ladybird  during my student exchange to New Zealand. A beautiful country.
Eloisa Aguirre Jan 2019
Dear book weight,
I dreamt of you
As my sweet fate

Dressed all on burgundy
Bragged of those elegant seams
Those that made you candy

And as foolish as it seems
A great desire awoke in me

I had no money to spare
Maybe,
Only if I miss my bread

So in a summer night
I swapped three meals
for your delight

"It is not even windy,"
My mother said,
"why would you want that instead?"

"I dream of windy nights,"
I replied
"one day my pages will try to fly"

What if my thoughts have no ground?
Who will plant True words in my mouth?

Only something heavy enough
Something that could make me tough

You!
My elegant book weight
The things I'd do for you
Throw my phone out the gate
'cause my purse can hold a few

Off it goes
On the rue

Now come on
Inside my purse

~          *           ~

Dear book weight,
It's January and its Winds
They've come to haunt me

But they don't know
I am ready

No longer a boat without anchor
You hold me down on earth
No longer in need of my rancor
to daunt me from my death
January 25th, 2019
Irina BBota Dec 2018
Have you ever felt the rain on your cheeks
smelling like a burgundy rose in the sunlight?
Or the fear that drives away the fire for weeks
from your soul, brought by the zephyr of the night?

Have you ever read the unwritten letters
with the wandering feather of the folly,
about the predicted destinies in sweaters
and the voiceless hearts who forget to remain jolly?

Have you ever seen the floating married couples
searching for their star in the clouds, up in the sky,
how they are looking for dizzying touches and chuckles
while writing their love on white sheets, in the hot July?

Have you ever heard the sharpened words,
the ones with hidden or multiple meanings,
how the blind hopes are torn apart by swords
bringing up bitter enigmas and bad feelings?

I did. I felt all of this. I've seen all of this.
How I was smashed in million pieces by the pain,
and yet, I believe Life will give me another kiss.
It'll get better one day, even if it's trying to rain.
TD Dec 2017
I-cee
Frosted banquets unfurl
across latent dreams.
Delectable morsels
rolling rises of ivory
white chocolate
decadence.

Ladled lustrous icing
clouds filter
luminescence, giggling brooks.
Percolating impressions
slide sifting through
feathers and fancies.

Silvered warbles
sway their dainty heads
to the whispering wing
the dusky stare of the junco.
Crystalline against milky breaths,
azure polishing a curtsy.

Her fading eyes
held snow
and warmth.
A silhouette
in burgundy
considers--
elizabeth Apr 2017
My anger is a deep burgundy;
My joy is a bright yellow.
My loneliness is a thunderstorm-grey;
My sadness is a turmoil of oceanic hues.
My hope is of lilac iridescence;
My despair is the darkest blue.
My love is a sweet pastel rainbow.
But my happiness and bliss?
It's the color of you.
April 19, 2017.
Dusk May 2015
Meeting you
is a sudden
alteration
of this
familiar,
overused
palette;
a complete shift,
a dreamer's flight
from
all
that
is
home…
Into the welcome
unknown.
Forgive this
night-thinker
for incompetence.
All that you are,
is all that
is new
to me.
The promise
of
the morrow;
daybreak upon
the horizon.
Your gaze is
sunlight,
your presence is
warmth,
but from which
I need not
shy away.
This time,
I ask,
will you stay
with me?
— D.C., A tale from burgundy
Sanket Shrestha Aug 2014
Wrapped around with a thick burgundy caress, Night-time sheets enclose your love tonight
In the confines of our playful backdrop Ensconced in the near-dawn cusp of night With only color blind kisses
And ****** touches
I like the way the night around feels grey tonight-
Save for your face,
The features catch light from all directions from the simple moonlight grace, I like to see the way your eyes lock with mine tonight,
Quivering, with your touches, your lips, for a kiss;
Burgundy kiss for a grey night.
StuKerr Jun 2014
That Ron Burgandy
He's so misogynistic
Baxter is Awesome

— The End —