Art and Poetry

Updated: Feb 14, 2020

The body seen as a series of circles and tubes can allow you to get the proportions quickly in and undersketch.

The digital kids, Mark & Markie, teach reading through shapes in "The Reading Xpress with OK Reading" (Mona Brookes: Drawing with Children) Shows that learning the elements of shape helps with alphabet recognition and reading readiness.

Wildflowers from Sanibel Island, Fl, are God's way of giving a splash of color to us to brighten our days.

Click this link for more flowers/leaves and famous poets.

Favorite of the Cherokee Indian

Art and Poetry (Hailstones and Halibut bones – Mary O'Neil)

Adventures in Color

Like acrobats on a high trapeze

The Colors pose and bend their knees

Twist and turn and leap and blend

Into shapes and feelings without end....


Time is purple

Just before night

But if you don't its

A beautiful sight.

Asters are purple,

There's purple ink.

Purple's more popular

Than you think. . . .

It's sort of a great

Grandmother to pink.

There are purple shadows

And purple veils,

Some ladies purple

Their fingernails.

There's purple jam

And purple jell

And a purple bruise

Nest day will tell

Where you landed

When you fell.

The purple feeling

Is rather put-out

The purple look is a

Definite pout.

But the purple sound

Is the loveliest thing

It's a violet opening

In the spring.


GOD is a metal

Gold is a ring

Gold is a very

Beautiful thing.

Gold is the sunshine

Light and thin

Warm as a muffin

On your skin.

Gold is the moon

Gold are the stars;

Jupiter, Venus

Saturn and Mars,

Gold is the color of

Clover honey

Gold is a certain

Klind of money.

Gold is alive

In a flicering fish

That lives its life

In a crysal dish.

Gold is the answer

To many a wish.

Gold is feeling

Like a king

It's like having the most

Of everything----

Long time ago

I was told

Yellow's mother's name

Is gold. . . .


Black is the night

When there isn't a star

And you can't tell by looking

Where you are.

Black is a pail of paving tar,

Black is jet

And things you'd like to forget.

Black is a smokestack

Black is a cat,

A leopard, a raven,

A high silk hat,

The sound of black is

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

Echoing in

An empty room.

Black is kind----

It covers up

The run-down street,

The broken cup,

Black is charcoal

And patio grill,

The soot spots on

The window sill.

Black is a feeling

Hard to explain

Like suffering but

Without the pain.

Black is licorice

And patent leather shoes

Black is the print

In the news.

Black is beauty

In its deepest form,

The darkest cloud

In a thunderstorm.

Think of what starlight

And lamplight would lack

Diamonds and fireflies

If they couldn't lean against

Black. . . .


Brown is the color of a country road

Back of a turtle

Back of a toad.

Brown is cinnamon

And morning toast

And the good smell of

The Sunday roast.

Brown is the color of work

And the sound of a river,

Brown is bronze and a bow

And a quiver.

Brown is the house

On the edge of town

Where wind is tearing

The shingles down.

Brown is a freckle

Brown is a mole

Brown is the earth

When you dig a hole.

?Brown is the hair

On many a head

Brown is chocolate

And gingerbread.

Brown is a feeling

You get inside

When wondering makes

Your mind grow wide.

Brown is a leather shoe

And a good glove----

Brown is as comfortable

As love.


Blue is the color of the sky

Without a cloud

Cool, distant, beautiful

And proud.

Blue is the quiet sea

And the eys of some people,

And many agree

As they grow older and older

Blue is the wscart

Spring wears on her shoulder.

Blue is twilight,

Shadows on snow,

Blue is feeling

Way down low.

Blue is a heron,

A sapphire ring,

You can smell blue

In many a think;

Gentian and larkspur

Forget-me-nots, too.

And if you listen

You can hear blue

In wind over water

And wherever flax blooms

And when eveing steps into

Lonely rooms.

Cold is blue:

Flame shot from a welding torch

Is, too:

Hot, wild, screaming, blistering Blue--

And on winter mornings

The dawns are blue. . . .


Gray is the color of an elephant

And a mouse

And a falling-apart house.

It's fog and smog,

Fine print and lint,

It's a hush and

The bubbling of oatmeal mush.

Tiredness and oysters

Both are gray,

Smoke swirls

And grandmother curls.

So are some spring coats

And nannygoats.

Eagles are gray

And a rainy day

The sad look of a slum

And chewing gum

Wood ash and linen crash.

Pussywillows are gray

In a velvety way.

Suits, shoes

And bad news,

Beggars' hats

And alley cats

Skin of a mole

And a worn slipper sole.

Content is gray

And sleepiness, too

They wear gray suede gloves

When they're touching you . . . .


White is a dove

And lily of the valley

And a puddle of milk

Spilled in an alley-----

A ship's sail

A kite's tail

A wekking veil

Hailstones and

Halibut bones

And some people's


The hottest and most blinding light

Is white.

And breath is white

When you blow it out on a frosty night.

White is the shining absence of all color

Then absence is white

Out of touch

Out of sight.

White is marshmallow

And vanilla ice cream

And the part you can't remember

In a dream.

White is the sound

of a light foot walking

White is a pair of

Whispers talking.

White is the beautiful

Broken lace

Of snowflakes falling

On your face.

You can smell white

In a country room

Toward the end of May

In the cherry bloom.


Orange is a tiger lily,

A carrot,

A feather from

A parrot,

A flame,

The wildest color

You can name.

Orange is a happy day

Saying good-by

In a sunset that

Shocks the sky.

Orange is brave

Orange is bold

It's bittersweet

And marigold.

Orange is zip

Orange is dash

The brightest strip

In a Roman sash,

Orange is an orange

Also a mango

Orange is music

Of the tango.

Orange is the fur

Of the fiery fox,

The brightest crayon

In the box.

And in the fall

When the leaves are turning

Orange is the smell

Of a bonfire burning. . . .


Red is a sunset

Blazy and bright.

Red is feeling brave

With all your might.

Red is a sunburn

Spot on your nose,

Sometimes red

Is a red, red rose.

Red squiggles out

When you cut your hand.

Red is a brick and

A rubber band.

Red is a hotness

You get inside

When you're embarrassed

and want to hide.

Fire-cracker, fire-engine

Fire-flicker red----

And when you're angry

Red runs through your head.

Red is an Indian,

A Valentine heart,

The trimming on

A circus cart.

Red is a lipstick,

Red is a shout,

Red is a signal

That says “Watch Out!”

Red is a great big

Rubber ball.

Red is the giant-est

Color of all.

Red is a show-off

No doubt about it---

But can you imagine

Living without it?


Pink is the color of a rose.

They come in other colors

But everyone knows

Pink is the mother-color of a rose.

Pink is a new baby,

The inside of a shell.

Pink is a cooked shrimp

And a canterbury bell.

Pink is peachbloom

Gauzy . . . frail

The wind's exquisite

Wedding veil.

Pink is a bonbon,

Pink is a blush,

Some Easter bunnies

Are pink plush.

If you stand in an orchard

In the middle of Spring

And you don't make a sound

You can hear pink sing,

A darling, whispery

Song of a thing.

Pink is the beautiful

Little sister of red

My teacher said,

And a ribbon girls tie

Round their head.

Pink is the sash

With the lovely fold

You'll remember

When you're old.

Pink is the flower

On a lady's hat

That nods and bows

This way and that.


Green is the grass

And the leaves of trees

Green is the smell

Of a country breeze.

Green is lettuce

And sometimes the sea.

When green is a feeling

You pronounce it N__V.

Green is a coolness

You get in the shade

Of the tall old woods

Where the moss is made.

Green is a flutter

That comes in Spring

When frost melts out

Of everything.

Green is a grasshopper

Green is jade

Green is hiding

In the shade---

Green is an olive

And a pickle.

The sound of green

Is a water-trickle

Green is the world

After the rain

Bathed and beautiful


April is green

Peppermint, too,

Every elf has

One green shoe.

Under a grape arbor

Air is green

With sprinkles of sunlight

In between.

Green is the meadow,

Green is the fuzz

That covers up

Where winter was.

Green is ivy and

Honeysuckle vine.

Green is yours

Green is mine. .; .


Yellow is the color of the sun

The feeling of fun

The yolk of an egg

A duck's bill

A canary bird

And a daffodil.

Yellow's sweet corn

Ripe oats


Little throats

Summer squash and

Chinese silk

The cream on top

Of Jersey milk

Dandelions and

Daisy hearts

Custard pies and

Lemon tarts.

Yellow blinks

On summer nights

In the off-and-on of

Firefly lights.

Yellow's a topza,

A candle flame.

Felicity's a

Yellow name.

Yellow's mimosa,

And I guess,

Yellow's the color of


The Colors live

Between black and white

In a land that we

Know best by sight.

But knowing best

Isn't everything,

For colors dance

And colors sing,

And colors laugh

And colors cry--

Turn off the light

And colors die,

And they make you feel

Every feeling there is

From the grumpiest grump

To the fizziest fizz.

And you and you and I

Know well

Each has a taste

And each has a smell

And each has a wonderful

Story to tell . . . . .


If you take a careful look,

you'll see how creatures

in this book are CAMOUFLAGED

and out of view--although they're

right in front of you.

A POLAR BEAR will only go

where thee is lots of ice

and snow.

Its fur is always white,

you know, so it will hardly. . .even show.

The SNOWSHOE HARE is turning brown

because the snow is melting down,

and when there's only snow in patches

you will find that this hare. . .matches.

This dappled DEER will

disappear into the filtered

sunlight. . .here.


doesn't seem to be

a creature who hides easily,

but in the shade, behind a tree,

its silhouette is . . .hard to see.

The lazy LEOPARD

likes to lie upon a

leafy limb, where leaves

and bark and sunshine

and his spots have . . .

hidden him.

The color of the LION

and the color of his mane

and the color of the grass

that grows upon the plain

all . . .seem to be the same.

Because the SLOTH'S

are very slow, green algae

find the time to grow and thrive

upon its thick coarse hair.

Then you can hardlytell. . .it's there.

Because the world is hostile

all creatures need protection.

They need to hide so thoroughly

that they defy detection. . .

So, some of them use

camouflage to fade away with ease

from predators who like to dine

upon these predatees.

But predators

to live must eat, so

also fade and are

discreet, and then their prey

on which they sup can't see

who's going to eat them up.



Tires and Cars

Tires and Cars and Trucks

Tires and Cars and Trucks and Roads


Windows and Houses

Windows and Houses and Buildings

Windows and Houses and Buildings and Roads

Circles and Squares

Boxes and Smokestacks

Boxes and Smokestacks and Boats

Boxes and Smokestacks and Boats and Roads

Circles and Squares everywhere. --- Max Grover


Shapes all around us.

Shall we play a game?

I'll spy a shape---

You say its name! (Zion Tucker and Paul Rogers)

I spy a diamond,

A crescent and a star,

A spiral, circle, triangle,

An oval, square and rectangle--

Show me where they are.

Shapes on the ceiling,

No two the same--\

Quick—before they disappear--

Give them all a name!

Subscribe to BrainStorm newsletter

I'm a title. ​Click here to edit me.

  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • Linkedin

© 2023 by BrainStorm. Proudly created with

This site was designed with the
website builder. Create your website today.
Start Now