5 Poems About Colors

Life brings us many colors. Let these poems about colors remind you that life is not always black and white. Also when you think about colors the most spectacular colors are seen in nature, especially in the spring when everything has been black and white through the winter, to see that first flower popping up it is amazing. And in the fall the colors can take your breath away.

Similar to the seasons of life, we have some seasons that are dull and down, and then there are seasons when we are overjoyed and happy. We hope these poems inspire you to appreciate the colors in your life and the colors that surround you each and every day.

Short Poems & Quotes    /   Poems About Life    /   Poems About Colors

  1. Colors of The Rainbow
    Poet: Unknown

    The gem for me is the ruby red,
    A rich clear light doth it always shed;
    The diamond's beauty is noised abroad;
    But the ruby is first in the promise of God.

    The bright sardonyx stone will show
    The second color of the row,
    In the wondrous promise bow.

    "With light's own smile the yellow burns,"
    The poet says, and here I place
    It's where the orange into yellow turns.

    In the clover of the meadow
    And the leaves upon the tree,
    The ever-pleasing color
    Of the emerald you see.

    O blue are the skies on a clear summer day
    And blue are the fairest of flowers,
    And blue is the turquoise, the jewel of truth,
    That shines in this promise of ours.

    A deeper blue is the sapphire's hue,
    And richer this beautiful gem;
    On heads of might it has shed its light,
    From many a diadem.

    We've shown six colors of the bow,
    Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and indigo;
    The color of the amethyst,
    The violet, now completes the list.

  2. Color is a power which directly influences the soul. Wassily Kandinsky
    Quotes About Colors

  3. Color
    Poet: Christina Rossetti

    What is pink? a rose is pink
    By a fountain's brink.

    What is red? a poppy's red
    In its barley bed.

    What is blue? the sky is blue
    Where the clouds float thro'.

    What is white? a swan is white
    Sailing in the light.

    What is yellow? pears are yellow,
    Rich and ripe and mellow.

    What is green? the grass is green,
    With small flowers between.

    What is violet? clouds are violet
    In the summer twilight.

    What is orange? Why, an orange,
    Just an orange!

  4. I try to apply colors like words that shape poems, like notes that shape music. Joan Miro

  5. Colors
    Poet: Margaret E. Sangster

    I love color.
    I love flaming reds,
    And vivid greens,
    And royal flaunting purples.
    I love the startled rose of the sun at dawning,
    And the blazing orange of it at twilight.

  6. Most people are color blind - they think they are blue when they are only yellow

  7. Down the Lanes of August
    Poet: Edgar A. Guest

    Down the lanes of August - and the bees upon the wing,
    All the world's in color now, and all the song birds sing;
    Never reds will redder be, more golden be the gold,
    Down the lanes of August, and the summer getting old.

    Mother Nature's brushes now with paints are dripping wet,
    Gorgeous is her canvas with the tints we can't forget;
    Here's a yellow wheat field - purple asters there.
    Riotous the colors that she's splashing everywhere.

    Red the cheeks of apples and pink the peaches' bloom.
    Redolent the breezes with the sweetness of perfume;
    Everything is beauty crowned by skies of clearest blue.
    Mother Earth is at her best once more for me and you.

    Down the lanes of August with her blossoms at our feet.
    Rich with gold and scarlet, dripping wet with honey sweet.
    Rich or poor, no matter, here are splendors spread
    Down the lanes of August, for all who wish to tread.

  8. In nature, light creates the color. In the picture, color creates the light.  Hans Hofmann

  9. Counterpoise
    Poet: Caroline D. Swan

    O pallid blue of yon ethereal sky,
    O gold of sunset swiftly drawing near,
    How soft ye meet and blend! The atmosphere
    Still bids your sweet opposing tints ally
    To create emerald. So pure and high
    The delicate new tone, so elfin clear,
    From both resultant - that we strain to hear
    Its color-music. Painters, who descry
    Its fair gradations, muse in wonderment.
    So, love, thy soul with silent spirit touch
    Re-acts on mine. Thy golden, calm content
    Soothes its low stir, a-quiver overmuch;
    'Tis warmth and light! As though some firebird flew
    Into its deeps of meditative blue.

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