Best Cascade Down Poems
A hollow heart devoid of love
is like a night no stars above,
or like an old abandoned well
whose empty echoes speak of hell.
A lonely heart will gently weep
as raindrops through her veins will seep,
and cascade down a pallid cheek,
and leave a weary spirit weak.
My broken spirit aches with pain
when sun sinks low at end of day,
and darkness douses hopes thereof
as midnight chimes amidst the rain.
These sad forsaken dreams portray
my hollow heart devoid of love.
June 17, 2020
Purifying drops
Cascade down the maiden's back
'Neath the falls she bathes
By clasping the lightning string
I reach the sky
Wondrous view there, I spy
Sitting on the fluffy clouds
I roam everywhere
Outspread clouds, my magic chairs
Crafting shapes out of clouds
I drive a dinosaur,
Sometimes rabbits, lion and omnivores
Goading the animals
I explore the sky's grandeur
And search for the heaven's door
Seeing a big dark black figure
I shout aloud
He does magnetize all the fluffy clouds
No shades of blue, all black now
I sit on top there
Wondering, is everything fair?
Suddenly the thunderstorms drum
I cascade down
As a raindrop and reaches a town
On seizing me
A child in the town, grins cheerfully
And the entire town, receive me gladly
Glimpsing above
On seeing the dark black figure, they bow
Gratitude for having his darshan, they show
Not all angels wear white dress
Plenty of them are in disguise
I perceived!!!
September 18 2021
*Darshan : an opportunity to see or an occasion of seeing a holy person or the image of a deity.
Little blades of grass touching my naked feet
Oh, the soft pleasant touch, the trodden path
I am treading again; though this is my first
Venture, my maiden hike towards the peak
The great heights of the neighbouring mountains!
Have you ever lost yourself in the benumbing wilderness?
Have you ever heard the silent call of the Titans, metamorphosed
Into rocks? Little nameless flowers swaying their heads
In an enchanted dance; the chill in the air
Gently touching my mortal body, making a grand statement
“If the heaven exists anywhere, it’s here, it’s absolutely here”
The eternal path leads you from crag to crag, from bends to bends
Like a child of nature I play hide and seek with the impish fountains
And waterfalls, oh how majestically they cascade down
On the wings of wild butterflies,
Swiftly hiding
Into impregnable gorges
The hairpin bends
Beckons
Oh, the wider stretch again
Looming, there is before, the endless and bottomless
Gulf of the sky, kissed benevolently by the sunny morning
High and hoary oaks and pines
Standing on both sides like insomniac sentries
The intolerable ache, nearly paralysed feet
One
Step
Forward, another
One
Inflated lungs
Is it the end of the road?
Oh, god, at last, yeah, at last
I am on top
I am looking beneath towards the inviting clouds
My eagle soul outstretches its wings
The sky kisses my forehead like my mother
17.09.2014
Contest: Pinnacle
The sound of baroque fills the air
the lively beats one can hear
as senses reel to music sweet
elves dance upon imaginary leaves .
The orchestra reaches crescendo
shattering crystals of chandeliers on high
staccatto beats .....the doe skids across the icy field
as snow cascade down from cypress trees.
Violins squeak ...Trombones blare
mandolins vibrate the inner ear.
The harp thrills......soft ripples along the narrow stream,
fish jumping into sunbeams.
Cymbals clash , a metallic crash...splintered timbers caught in lightening flash
A silent throb...the music dims... a cool beeze flows over the hills
soothing, drawing all into a warm embrace
calming the spirit , slowing the pace.
The music wanes...... delicate snowflakes stuck to window panes
A Grand finale......twitching nerves that long for solace.
Silence now as the music stops.
Peace follows music sweet.... into dreams.
Baroque music lives on....do not weep.
Sleep now ....sleep.
On this spring day- the sky is azure blue,
the creeping pink Phlox wants to cascade down;
pretty striped Sweet William seek to spread too,
in my Zen garden there is not a frown !
My herbs Rosemary and Parsley, Basil,
and Oregano whisper- water please;
we want to grow up strong and to dazzle,
oh, how we love swaying in the soft breeze !
My hanging pots hold twining lush green vines,
tangled emerald tendrils soon hang low;
they grow wild and never held to confines,
I give them shade and they give me no woe !
Bees come drifting and we never say shoo
on this spring day- the sky is azure blue !
____________________
May 07, 2022
Poetry/Orphan Sonnet/My Zen Garden
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1455-151-07
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Orphan Sonnet
sponsor, Emile Pinet, Judged 05/30/2022
Third Place
Wake up fresh in the morning, free from daytime's infections
Splash a pot of coffee on your pristine complexion
Rev up your car's engine: Send a cloud of smoke into the air
Motor off to work: Emit toxic pollutants over the road everywhere
Sprint to your desk: Turn on the computers, the a/c and the lights
Ratchet up enough current to frazzle countless insects and mites
At break, leave the office: Enjoy a quick smoke
Then smell your clothes -- a tar-and-nicotine cloak
Back at your desk, sweat pours down your body
Mingled with the smell of your cloak, you're off to the potty
Where you befoul the toilet, the hallway and office
With tincture of excrement, exotic odor so nauseous ...
**********
Now this poem's not going to sink, burn or crash
Here's how to remove gobs of rubbish and trash
Step into the shower at the close of each day
Turn on the water full-throttle: Blast those germs away
Let the welcome droplets cascade down your head, face and arms
Wash the stench away with H2O's charms
You dance love, and you dance joy and you dance dreams."- Gene Kelly
I am lost in an endless dream
My love and I are together
Dancing hand in hand, we're a team
Like the zephyr and a feather
Swirling and swaying to the beat
We are caught up in love's sweet trance
To the music, tapping our feet
Adrift in our fantasy dance.
Embraced in splendour of the night
We vowed that we’d twirl evermore
Waltzing the dream till morning light
Upon earth’s grandiose dance floor
Moments too precious to forget
Memories stored safely in heart
To replay in our mind cassette
Forever my cherished sweetheart.
I do not want this dream to end
To wake up and find I’m alone
But dawn breaks in to apprehend
Into the real world, I’m thrown
I await night’s darkness to sleep
To dream of my love and our dance
I am lost in fantasy deep
Hope this will last longer perchance.
Bleak since you left my heart and dreams
In your arms it felt so real
Tears cascade down my face in streams
The heartache I cannot conceal
Come back to me prince entrancing
We’ll waltz to happiness again
Dreams are for love and romancing
To a melodious refrain.
*+*+*
7th April 2023
Collab with Jo Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joanna Daniel
There’s nothing like the lovely rustic charm
Exuded by the far flung lush green country farm
Where trees in majesty sweep heaven with their crown
And birds with celestial music, the surrounding valley drown
Where the air, so pristine and sweet like the forest glade
And Heaven with rich profusion bless the country wide.
Where the rural folk in relentless toil, values, and pride
With their simple, artless, and modest life reside
My senses have ere long etched every sight n’ sound
Of that countryside wherein my childhood inextricably bound
Take me to that place of bliss to which I long to retreat
And splurge in memories that cascade down in surfeit.
Dec. 10.2022
Entered For Brian's Contest- Your Pick Again
Take Me There- Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Margarita Lillico
Burned the rim and the wind did swirl
Across the realm the flags unfurl
The watcher waits to glimpse redemption
Or at least the freedom of exemption.
Then headlong to complacency,
The poet seeks out vacancy.
A place where he can hang his head,
And wait until his words are dead.
What motivates his troubled mind
To leave convention far behind,
And push on stones until they roll,
To eulogize his sacred soul?
His words are called out after him,
Igniting pyres along the rim.
His embered ashes cascade down,
And singe the rooftops of the town.
In this way he is remembered,
As his words become dismembered.
Then feelings that his poems evoke,
Will fly away as wisps of smoke.
Until none read his words one day,
Then the long dead poet will fade way.
Waves of nausea crash against my splintering ribcage,
stomach churning, bile burning through esophageal walls.
Choking on paranoia-fueled delirium,
self-inflicted wounds etched upon a fragile psyche,
all while I try to hold on to some semblance of my humanity.
Push and pull, breaking down walls,
then building them back up, reinforced.
Love never came easy in delusion-filled memories,
always hovering at the cusp of fiction,
ready to strike like a coiled python.
Then, like glass, tears would cascade down,
begging for forgiveness.
Paranoia-induced hallucinations gripped my marrow again,
coursing through tainted bloodstreams,
blinding any sense of reason.
So life imitated drug-soaked nightmares
as my security slipped through calloused fingers once more.
While the rain pummels down against abandoned dreams,
I am haunted by you in this empty house.
Nothing but phantoms of the past roam
in the dead of night,
wailing in the deafening silence,
a requiem for my inner demons’ eternal torment.
AUTUMN AFTERNOON
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
spice cake on the table
aroma wafts through the air
coziness, tranquility
cup of hot cocoa
warms hands
sipping comforts soul
world slows
gone is hurried pace
time takes reprise
sun hangs low
rays cascade down
golden orb sighs
trees stand tall
leaves ablaze
hues of crimson, amber, and brown
air is crisp
hint of chill
warmth in our embrace
meander along winding path
footfalls crunch fallen leaves
autumn’s scent fills the breeze
world goes by
colors change under the sky
autumn charms
revel in this scene
cherish autumn’s fleeting days
winter is on its way
Glorious spring sunshine kiss my limbs as they sprout
With each opening bud, "I'm so alive" I want to shout
April showers cling to me as I drink each delicious drop
Hopefully chosen by blue jays to build their nest atop
Caterpillars and ants tickle me as they crawl to and fro
Nothing sweeter than watching everything around me grow
Come sit under me, take a break from the hot summer sun
Join me as I watch the baby birds leave their nest one by one
Let's marvel at the beautiful butterflies that flutter all around
The music of my friend the humming bird will surely astound
Smell the delightful fragrance of all the many flowers in bloom
Capture the magic nearby of a newly wedded bride and groom
I'm bursting with colors of yellow, orange, red, gold and brown
I proudly smile each time one of my leaves cascade down
Laughing children make my day as they roll in my splendor
You taking my picture makes this memory much more tender
Scurrying squirrels truly fascinate me, as my acorns they hide
Forgotten ones will one day be my saplings, I'll burst with pride
Snow flakes have delightedly dressed me in a suit of white
City folk string me with lights, I boastfully light up the night
Skaters whipping by me, their energy and actions are compelling
I feel so very blessed to have been rooted within this dwelling
Come and join in the festivities and beauty of each and every season
Become a memory on my branches, I can't think of a better reason
*Dedicated to the 50-80 year old trees in Gage Park, Brampton
Can you see the radiance in her smile? That beautiful row of white goodness that makes me forget there are other people existing in the world. Can you see the sensuousness of her skin? That caramel chocolate sensation I love to drown my thoughts in... I know you can see the way her hips sway with such perfect synchronicity, the image alone conjures thoughts loving in perpetuity. Can you see her hazel eyes? Twin pools of perfection to cool this body on a hot summer day. I am but a watcher; if I were a collector of beautiful things I would spare no exertion to have her be mine.
Can you smell the scent of her femininity? An aroma so intoxicating that I will never want another high. Can you hear the sound of her voice? That calming husky baritone that brings waves of peace to my conscious mind. I know you can see that lovely mane of hair, that black hair with the specks of gold and red to entrance every eye. I am but an admirer; if I were a man of means I might have the courage to speak to her.
My eyes avoid catching hers in a moment stolen, so afraid am I that she will see the hunger brimming therein. I look at her and see everything that I am not but everything that I need. I see laughter and that carefree nonchalance of youth and brevity that I so crave but that elude me. I envy the water that gets to cascade down her body when she bathes. I envy the wind that gets to caress her long luscious legs as she dons that skirt that invokes feelings in me that are not easily suppressed. . I envy the sun that gets to warm her body when she is chilled. I envy the moon that watches over my sleeping beauty as she dreams of people she does know. I envy the man who gets her sighs and knows her dreams. I envy him not only because he is all she wants but because he is all that I can never be for her.
While my heart is the one that loves her with the fervour of a thousand fires and the intensity of a million lifetimes; he kisses her, touches her and holds her and she loves him to a place beyond distraction; he is all that she thinks she needs, he is her man. I am left to watch and admire from a distance. How can I compete? After all, he is the man of her childhood fantasies; all that I am is a girl who fell in love with the wrong goddess.
On the western horizon where the sun goes to bed,
there stands the Canadian Rockies,
so majestic in size,
solid and immovable,
yet fluid and ever-changing.
I am awed by their beauty,
the way the sun reflects off the snow,
making them seem closer than they really are,
a three-dimensional monolith sitting in my own backyard,
sometimes shrouded in clouds,
or resting under the halo of the sun,
while their crevasses hide in the shadows.
At times a mist covers their peaks,
and they are subdued,
as if a veil has been pulled across the landscape,
making them seem distant and one-dimensional,
a flat backdrop at the edge of a rolling prairie.
And as the sun sets beyond this mighty fortress of rock,
painting a canvass of red, pink and orange,
the mountains sit in silhouette,
dark and foreboding,
as if hiding a secret deep within their walls.
Spring now gently invades this frozen rock,
and as the snow melts,
the hillsides turn green,
and palettes of colour dot the meadows.
The mountains are alive with movement,
new birth,
struggles for survival,
and death.
The cycle of life is being played out in their bosom,
yet from a distance,
as I survey their silent grandeur,
they appear to be indifferent to the drama taking place within.
Spring becomes summer,
penetrating much of this rugged world,
but the highest peak is buried in ice year-round,
a giant glacier,
the birthplace of mighty rivers.
I have stood on that glacier,
drank from its cold, clear waters,
as they cascade down the ice,
water so pure,
as if the world is new,
and being touched for the very first time,
a frozen paradise,
a fragile cradle of microscopic life.
I love these mountains,
for their beauty never tires,
and I am content to live in their shadows.
*For the Love Of Nature contest*