Hello Poetry is a poetry community that raises money by advertising to passing readers like yourself.

If you're into poetry and meeting other poets, join us to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
Vibrancy is all that I require,
Since I hold a special beauty all my own.
I'm all that you desire,
When sitting in my glass throne.

I come from fields of plenty,
Bathed in hues of violet.
I'm used for bouquets of many,
Making everything ultraviolet.

My smell is quite unique,
Since I have a spectrum of them.
I have my own mystique,
All coming from my stem.

People love me from up close or afar,
Maybe it's for my color or my smell.
All I know, is that I'm special by far,
Having everyone cast under my spell.
Did you know you sound blue
That I feel yellow when you laugh
That your small hums make the air orange

Did you know your hand writing is pastel
And the way you run your hands through your hair is aqua marine
And the way you walk is every shade of neon

Did you know that when you fidget I see sparks of silver
And your smile is scarlet red
And that when you look at me
I feel violet in my finger tips

Did you know that you are the number 7
Or that I smell amber when I read your name
Or that you
And ever part of you
Is a particular shade
Of baby blue
A Sep 18
I glimpse above a
Cobalt chocolate sundown, you
Chasing violet.
Bella Aug 31
Roses are red
Yet blood shares the same resemblance
Violets are blue
But dead bodies are too
My heart is pink
But it is also cold
A poem for the lovers who live in the dark, but never apart.
the sun
leaves the earth
with bright red,

preceding seemingly endless darkness.

only to return
with splashes of
pink and orange

giving rise to yet another beautiful day.

- v. m
your favorite colour is back after a few months of nothingness
Delaney Jun 19
I have a friend.
She prefers geometry
And I prefer algebra,
But we get along just fine.
Sometimes she goes to talk
To my advisor
And I go to talk to hers.
We criss cross in the halls.
She can make her arms flow
Like they’re butterfly wings.
She reminds me of a flower.
Sometimes she remembers things
That happened in the past
And gets nervous.
Her hands shake.
But it’s okay.
I let her squeeze my hand numb,
Until her jitters go away.
She walks on her tip toes
And the bottoms of her
Feet are worn in.
Her hair is four times
Thicker than mine (we’ve measured),
And her waist is two sizes smaller,
But we understand each other.
The crevices of her that
Other people do not reach,
I have made a home in.
She let me dance with her, once,
In the dark in her house.
We flowed to the rhythm of
The classical music playing on
The radio on her nightstand.
One time in English class
I described myself as bubbly,
But I think it suits her better.
Next page