xiv lines — Volume 1: Issue 16

classical and structured poetry — as poetry was meant to be
The latest content challenge for the poets of xiv lines was to write a poem using the colors of the rainbow (not necessarily in order). The colors being; red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet.

The Colors of Our Love — Elusive Me

I feel the pulse of love’s red lips on skin
As burning trails of passion felt divine,
Causing fevered bumps to write a poem
In brail ‘pon my skin with love sublime.
O set me free to truly feel each kiss,
Let your fingers cause our souls to rhyme,
Peeling clothes in orange blossomed bliss.

Peeling clothes in orange blossomed bliss,
Buttons fail to keep our heart from lust.
Dext’rous swirls of subtle moves that play
And find a way lull us into trust.
One by one the pieces fall so bold;
A revelation soft beneath the sun,
With drenching warmth that colours yellow gold.

With drenching warmth that colours yellow gold,
Each freckle leaving hints of where to play,
As fingers find sweet virgin ground to plough,
My fingers knot in hair with sighs to stay,
In furtile earth that beckons hungry lips.
We dance in dappled drips of honeyed dew
Across the fields of green on rounded hips.

Across the fields of green on rounded hips,
Your arms embrace me close like clinging vines.
Looking deep into your soul through embered eyes
I see your love light up like neon signs,
With playful bites with giggles twixt our teeth.
Surrender soon ensues in wanton stares
Blue eyes close soft as whispers play beneath.

Blue eyes close soft as whispers play beneath 
Words that linger, pressing heart to heart
And each in turn declares a love that’s true,
Vowing deep that never shall they part.
Wind will blow, and vows of love not bent
Endures dark like stars once born to shine,
The indigo, of wishes heaven sent.

The indigo, of wishes heaven sent,
A canopy of night in tranquil hues,
Allowing moods to find a place to lay,
Between the fun of fevers and their fuse.
For lovers dance and sigh in rhythmic sways
That lead into climatic highs that peak,
From bodies melted in a violet haze.

From bodies melted in a violet haze,
A glow of heat is felt upon the cheek
And heaving breasts try hard to catch a breath,
Between the cries when frenzied moments peak.
And though it took just seconds to begin
A fire burns intense with just a kiss;
I feel the pulse of love’s red lips on skin.

I feel the pulse of love’s red lips on skin 
Peeling clothes in orange blossomed bliss,
With drenching warmth that colours yellow gold
Across the fields of green on rounded hips.
Blue eyes close soft as whispers play beneath
The indigo, of wishes heaven sent,
From bodies melted in a violet haze.

© Elusive Me 

ROYGBIV — Garry Spooner

Red is said, to portray passion, 
Whether war or sport, or fun or fashion. 
The sight of lace, both black and red,
Ingnites the heart, of lust in bed.

Orange is a sunny day,
A touch of gold comes out to play. 
Painted sunsets, bathed in orange, 
Each day anew, but never foreign.

Yellow cheers our gloomy days, 
with jonquil blooms, such fine arrays. 
Happiness,in a shimmer of yellow, 
A smile from a lover, a friend or a fellow.

Green is so earthy, the colour of trees,
Verdant the shades that flow with the breeze. 
The colour of growth, and of pasture is green, 
The leek and the cabbage, the pea and the bean.

Blue is the azure of sea and of sky,
It’s also the sadness, the tear and the cry. 
Cooling the colour by adding more blue, 
With varying shades of differing hue.

Indigo, there’s a mouthful to rhyme, 
A bit like a mauve, pale purple sublime. 
Scented dried flowers, all crushed indigo, 
Blowing along on a soft wind they go.

Violet, violence and violate, 
A colour of darkness, of thunder and hate. 
Of bruising of anger, all bloodshot and violet, 
Let’s give peace a chance, or at least let’s just trial it.

© Garry Spooner August 2017

First Inning — Mark A Bryan

The fans was red hot, shouting orange go,
On a field were players, with glove in hand,
The yellow side have caught, a foul from low,
He was best on the, green where players stand.

Next up is blue and he’s a, taller man,
The fans stood up to, cheer for a home run,
The night was in indigo, as he ran,
Every base free and teammates love, the fun.

A lady in violet came on, field,
The other side was in, a real uproar,
When she was taken off, the field and held,
Play continued and rain started, to pour.

The day’s match was called, off temporarily,
As players shelter rain fell, rapidly.

©igl.limited Mark A Bryan 2017

Rainbow — Alima J

I dreamt of home, it’s where I want to be.
I closed my eyes and lie on top of clouds 
And found myself already there, at home.
I went to paint the sky with silky shades,
But clouds began to rain and wet my cheeks
And colours red and blue began to mix,
Then dappled me in funny colours, green.
A brush of yellow brought the sun to me,
And rays of orange bloomed around the sun.
I bathed in warmth while dancing on the clouds.
The rain and sun began to play with me
And wait amongst the violet deep skies
To catch the indigo beyond the clouds.
Until I find the rainbow I’ll not sleep.

©Alima J Aug 2017

Thoreau the Rainbow — Ferrick Gray

One day, a rainbow smiled and said, “Hi” — 
I raised my eyes to the bright blue sky;
The Sun, she winked and Moon said, “Bye”,
Caught by surprise — felt a silly guy.

I thought to myself, “Did I hear that?”
A big wide smile like a Cheshire cat — 
The rainbow grinned and it said, “Nice hat,
But please: Tell me where the moon is at?”

“The moon?”, I thought — What a strange request — 
Rainbows asking where the moon would rest?
My eyebrows raised — I will do my best — 
“Oh, only kidding!”, the rainbow jest.

Well why did you ask me, if you know?
“Just for fun!”, said the smiling rainbow.
“You stand there talk, quite silly, you know,
I’m just a rainbow; call me Thoreau.”

Thoreau the Rainbow, that’s a nice name,
I know a guy whose name is the same,
A writer he was, one of great fame — 
Did quite well, all his works we acclaim.

The rainbow stared; he wasn’t impressed,
“But I don’t write — I do colors best — 
Can’t you tell by the way I am dressed?”
And he beamed so brightly — east to west.

“I’m red and orange, yellow and green,
Indigo, violet — blue in between.
Indigo’s hard, bit hard to be seen — 
I have them all. You know what I mean?”

The Sun, she laughed, as I scratched my head,
“Don’t mind me, I’ve just got up from bed.
I prefer yellow, orange instead
To greens and blues, perhaps a lil red.”

Thoreau, he smiled, “My sister you see,
She has a great laugh — good company,
A little secret, ‘tween you and me — 
Yes, without her, I could never be.”

“I only come out, I hear her call
To tickle small raindrops as they fall,
They laugh and they giggle, one and all,
Then jostle about and have a ball.”

“But after a while, we all feel tired,
I smile at those, who smiled and admired,
My colors of heaven, I acquired,
And to think of all that has transpired.”

I smiled at Thoreau, he smiled at me — 
“Just one last look, then I’ll let you be.
Look to the sky, the colors you see — 
When the moon says ‘Bye’ — the Sun ‘Tee Hee’”.

Ferrick Gray
© 2017

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