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Poems by visitors to Zoreldda Nuit's Mystical Colour Fortunes web site
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Here are a few poems from visitors who have read my poetry page.

Here's a philosophical poem from Mick in Northern England. Mick says he wrote this poem in the summer of 1997. It's something from deep inside him which he'd love others to read.

In the beginning there is life and destiny is inevitable.
To change our destiny gives us a galaxy of opportunities, a million possibilities, at the heart of the hurricane... at the hub of the apocalypse.
With hope and belief comes that distant voice, the one that awakens you from the inside.
The sun begins to shine brighter, as the stars light the way and the bridge that was never long enough to get you to the other side now seems endless.
Yet... In a strange sort of way, as you tread the bridge, the far side becomes nearer and brighter, as that glimmering hope becomes reality.
In your mind.....
Your hope takes you there,
Your belief guides you,
and the colossal inferno at the end is waiting for you..... as it did from the beginning.
Your bridge,
Your chosen route.....
Your destiny.

Here is a poem about the Mystical colours from Lydia Breskin who is twelve years old.

Yellow is for the sparkling sun, and the bright color of sticky notes, on which I put all the things I have to remember but can't seem to find when I search through my head.

Blue is the intense color of the bright sky and the deep sea. If you stare long enough at something blue, like the sky on a clear day, your imagination runs wild.

Green is the color of fresh, and new, and life. Everything around us is green in springtime. And in springtime, people live again.

Brown is the color of earth. Without earth, we could not survive. To me, earth symbolizes being grounded, and realistic. This is very important as well.

Red is the final color. Of blood and velvet and luxury. Red is my color. Even before I came to this page, red was my color. I am temperamental, and I think red symbolizes loud anger as well. Red is indeed my color.

Now we have three poems from Revamari which are partly sad, partly happy.

Empty

The stillness of the room.
The darkness of the room.
There are many people,
but still empty.
They need and want to cry,
but you have no eyes.
It sickens you down to the stomach and the pain,
but you can't feel it.
Is the room empty?
Are you empty?

Circus

Elephants, toys and clowns.
Candy and Popcorn.
These belong to the circus.
Laughing families.
Happy people.
Everything is a big joke.
The world is a circus and
we are all clowns.

Dreams

Fantasies, wishes, desires.
These are all dreams.
You and I are part of a dream,
but is it happy? Sad?

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