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Ananyaa Kapoor Jul 2015
the air is heavy
with an unspoken desire
for his tanned skin
upon hers
a shady block
of warm breeze,
a dusty corner
and her back against it
- heaven.

gentle kisses that tasted like summer
now dot her memory
along with flashes of squinting
liquid honey coloured eyes
framed within lashes
that remind her of the sort of thing she'd like want to feel fluttering against her shoulder
first thing
on a sunny sunday morning;
a nose that she'd like to have nuzzled against the crook of her neck

all swatches of filtered sunlight
and unfamiliar hands
soft lips and hurried goodbyes
- imprints of a translucent yellow
Elioinai Jul 2015
I said my desire was like a tree
its Autumn come upon me
AM Jun 2015
Ulala
Those bright green eyes
ridiculously
fit the yellow sunlight
when the sky stopped raining
I'd describe you as
the pale yellow haze before
the coming rain storm.
Emma Kate Jun 2015
I now know why you drove
on those dark winding roads.

the fear kicks in, your troubles
disappear and the only focus
is staying in between two yellow lines;
perfectly parallel
like you and I.
MsAmendable Jun 2015
Golden sunsets glow
Slanting through your windows, cold
Lighting dust into lazy snow
Drifting, drifting slow
The blaze first to go
Then fiery Amber toes
Paint red skies bold
Then before the story is told
The colour away is blown
And melts into summer nights.
Ryan Unger Mar 2012
There was this guy Bart that I met in Prague,
Told me his girlfriend lived down in a bog.
“She’s big and she’s green, with long yellow fangs,
And seaweed hangs off of her head like green bangs.

The first time I met her she bit off my hand, and spit it out next to me into the sand.
The next time I met her, this guy Bart he said,
“If she bites you again, I’ll cut off her head.”

Well this time she bit off my leg, and she even ate Bart,
That’s when I decided that I had to start,
Thinking of ways to get rid of this creature,
So I hobbled to town to talk to the preacher.

“It’s love that it need!” he beamed at me,
“Just show it some love, and then you’ll see.”
So to the bog I went with love to share,
Bart’s girlfriend came out, and greeted me with a stare.

I shouted at her, “I came to share love!”
And offered her the preacher’s precious white dove.
Well she snatched up the dove, broke it in two,
Threw it aside and said “Now onto you!”

I turned to run as fast as I could,
But was bitten in half like an old piece of wood.
My final thought before I had died,
Was that love had solved nothing, the preacher had lied.
Kerri Jun 2015
Soft  yellow sunrise
my first morning waking up
looking into your eyes

Lying still in the moment
to soak it all in
a calm beating heart & an unscathed grin

Wrinkled sheets and messy hair
sipping fresh coffee
in a chipped-paint chair

A new beginning & the feeling of home
making sense of the past
and my journey alone

It lead me to your smile, which lead me to your kiss
and being wrapped in your angel wings
in a night of heavenly bliss

This morning I found my purpose
and I hope to see 1000 more
soft yellow sunrises streaming in behind your door
I don't do a lot of rhyming poems, but here it is :)
It was torn and slightly tattered
storms and wind had battered
The symbol....
The tree was strong and silent
As the winds tore through real violent
At the symbol.....

Look around you'll see it
There are many there to see
A simple yellow ribbon
Tied tight right around a tree
They're there for every soldier
Who is fighting to be free
They are waiting for their safe return
They are there for you and me

That yellow ribbon hangs on tough
To the tree bark that is worn and rough
A symbol...
On the day that they come home
Show them they were not alone
Show the symbol...

It's a simple ribbon on a tree
That shows them that we care
A yellow ribbon, nothing more
We're proud that they are there
When our soldiers come on home
I think that it would just be fair
To let them cut it down
And give them a ribbon they can wear
....a symbol
Tori Hayes Sep 2013
Yellow
The supposed color of happiness.
Plastered onto the walls of a vacant room.
Mocking the prisoners.
Waiting for the next victim,
To wait,
And wait.
Constantly waiting for their turn.
People come and go
Watching lives pass.
Entering the realm of the forgotten,
The after thoughts,
The community service projects.
With plastered smiles on vacant faces.
Just like the yellow walls.
Pretending to be something they're not,
Happy
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