Best Constanza Poems
I stop to watch the eagle soar.
At dawn his silhouette flies high
Through brilliant tinted scarlet sky.
Below the gorge at valley’s floor,
The creatures rise up one by one;
A quest for food has just begun.
I listen to the fierce winds roar.
Descending from the north they blow
And carry in the first light snow.
They make the river crest the shore
When swirls of vivid hues abound
Dancing before they touch the ground
As autumn breezes in once more.
I marvel at the leaves in flight
And wonder where they will alight.
I stop to watch the eagle soar.
Below the gorge at valley’s floor,
I listen to the fierce winds roar.
They make the river crest the shore
As autumn breezes in once more.
7-29-20
~Poem of the Day July 31, 2020~
Constanza Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
Thank you very much Team Poetry Soup and members for this honor.
Autumn delights sporting red dye
Painting meadows in crimson themes
Charming thrills of amorous dreams.
Where parching breaths of maple sigh
Zephyrs groove lilting amber breeze
Swaying rhythms of colorful trees.
How season’s golden passions vie
Waltzing glamor of stolen glance
As leaves chromatic whirl, and dance.
Sights lovesome gazing sapphire sky
Frolic with stars of moonlit night
Lauding sparkles of twinkles bright.
Hoisting desires of romance high
Venus smiles gawking lovers kiss
Boosting tempo of autumn's bliss.
Autumn delights sporting red dye
Where parching breaths of maple sigh,
How season’s golden passions vie
Sights lovesome gazing sapphire sky
Hoisting desires of romance high.
Nature's Way Constanza
Sol puts to sleep the hills with light
while gloaming sheds all fading rays
and brilliant colors change to greys
when shadows darken them with night.
The ocean turns from bondi blue
to deeper shades of cobalt hue.
Returning birds to boughs, a sight,
singing melodies before sleep.
In flocks they fly, their perch to keep,
as twilight captures them in flight.
Then comes quiet hours for romance
and cheek to cheek, young lovers dance.
While Luna tests our will, our might
to keep control of passion’s love,
with silver fingers from above
when rising slowly to her height.
To wee hours the poet will write
until he glimpses dawn’s first light.
Luna begins to fade from sight.
Then all the birds begin to sing
which conjures up the feel of spring.
Sol’s rise again, conquers the night.
Birds leave their limbs to welcome day
and trees commune in their sweet way.
Sol puts to sleep the hills with light
when shadows darken them with night.
Returning birds to boughs, a sight,
as twilight captures them in flight.
While Luna tests our will, our might
when rising slowly to her height.
Luna begins to fade from sight.
Sol’s rise again, conquers the night.
4/16/2015
I saw a sundrop in a field,
a daffodil to be exact,
stand brave upon the snow-filled tract.
In blighting cold it would not yield;
long since its fellows disappeared
to that one spot it still adhered,
though flurries did the winter wield.
The autumn did its namesakes in
before the hoarfrost could begin
and slicing gusts now unconcealed,
with falling rain becoming snow.
The way of death it would not go
as though behind a covert shield
that kept its sunlit attitude
when sleet unto the land ensued.
I saw a sundrop in the field,
in blighting cold it would not yield,
though flurries did the winter wield
and slicing gusts now unconcealed,
as though behind a covert shield.
11/15/17
Dedicated, a second time, to our beloved Connie.
At twilight, prismed skies unfold
Painting Earth in roseate light
Pastel hues brushed on clouds in flight
Pink threads woven with rays of gold
Marmalade fingers fade to peach
Sinking low, out of human reach
A sanguine sun nears dusk's threshold
Waves ripple with his last shimmer
Dazzling beams of sunset glimmer
'tween sea and sky, since ages old
He sleeps 'til each new day is born
And flowers sip the dew of morn
Earth is veiled by night and grows cold
Moon of pearl glows and stars glisten
Nightingales sweetly sing ~ listen
At twilight, prismed skies unfold
Pink threads woven with rays of gold
A sanguine sun nears dusk's threshold
'tween sea and sky, since ages old
Earth is veiled by night and grows cold
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Connie, your Constanza form is a gift to us all.
Not written for a contest, but to honor Connie Wong.
Submitted on 9/14/2022 To Mark Toney's Marathon Mile 14
I have known ethereal bliss.
A crystal sea, serenity....
Imparts visions to memory.
Endowed by heaven's cosmic kiss,
A peaceful healing I can share
With those who need my love and care.
By star light from this great abyss
Luna welcomes her night time sky.
When full or new, emotions fly.
How could I not be changed by this?
She wields her power over me,
Yet I am charmed, how can this be?
The glory of this earth I'll miss.
Though when I leave this realm one day
Sparks from my life are sure to stay.
I have known ethereal bliss.
Endowed by heaven's cosmic kiss,
By star light from this great abyss
How could I not be changed by this?
The glory of this earth I'll miss.
7-19-20
If this was my last poetry contest poetry contest
Sponsor Silent One
My last poem would have to be about this enchanted earth, the moon and stars, and it would have to be in my Constanza form.
Oh, Loch Ness monster, there you are,
from depths below to surface came...
and Nessie you are called by name.
'Neath eerie moon that glows afar
and thunder clouds with battle cries
that summon lightning to the skies,
you raise your head, just like a star
in monster films, yet you seem real,
and slink with prehistoric zeal.
You come and go...it's so bizarre;
a myth, non-fiction, no one knows,
so short-lived are your sudden shows.
What world below has met your bar,
within the Loch Ness mystery,
that grants you space in history?
Oh, Loch Ness monster, there you are.
Neath eerie moon that glows afar,
you raise your head, just like a star.
You come and go...it's so bizarre.
What world below has met your bar?
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Loch Ness
Sponsor: Thivia Shetley
Constanza Form
Judged: 01/31/2018
Oh Ganga! river so revered
your holiness purifies deep
if thy essence we let in seep.
From lord Shiva's hair you appeared
down the mighty Himalayas
quenching the thirsty souls pious.
Yamuna, Saraswati neared
to merge with you at Triveni
Sangam of pilgrimage many.
Together all joyously cheered
by peasants and boatmen alike
before in sea you slowly dyke.
Your ambrosial waters so cleared
granting boon to even sinners
writing history of winners
Oh Ganga! river so revered
From lord Shiva's hair you appeared
Yamuna, Saraswati neared
Together all joyously cheered
Your ambrosial waters so cleared.
Note:
Ganga, Yamuna, Saraswati rivers' confluence takes place at Triveni near Allahabad. This confluence is also called Sangam in Hindi.
25.7.2020
Tribute to Teachers - Constanza
Upon my soapbox I protest
that teachers schooling young and old,
be honored like they're made of gold.
How small in payment we invest
with expectations raised sky high,
still, underpaid we can't deny.
For educators, my request,
to legislate to change the laws
for student ratios just cause.
In government we do divest
to raise the bar in public schools;
give teachers much more needed tools
and raise all pay at their behest!
Without these changes I do fear
few will want a teaching career.
Upon my soapbox I protest
how small in payment we invest
For educators, my request,
In government we do divest
and raise all pay at their behest!
6-20-2018
A poem with a message ' Poetry Contest
Sponsor stephen pennell
Constanza Contest ~Second Place~
Sponsor Emile Pinet
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Beside the surf she lay, a heap
Of broken hope, like bones, now crushed
And burning lips, forever hushed.
From eyes to sea, her briny weep
Gave solemn witness to her fears
The love now draining with her tears.
Thus bled her heart into the deep
With love that spoiled in other arms
Abiding not its throbbing harms.
To there, perhaps, imbue it sleep
For pain was all that coursed within
Yet fathoms, black, would drown its sin
Or dark and still, its secrets, keep
A passion's crime that stained her red
Her love, his lover ... cold and dead.
Beside the surf she lay, a heap
From eye to sea, her briny weep
Thus bled her heart into the deep
To there, perhaps, imbue it sleep
Or dark and still, its secrets, keep.
* SECOND PLACE in the "Premiere Contest Number 370" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor. *
* SECOND PLACE in the "Constanza" Poetry Contest, Craig Cornish, Sponsor. *
From life you chose to disappear
Yielding to waves that lured you in
Never knowing what could have been
Each day I'm haunted by grim fear
Anguished by the most dreadful thought ~
What had I done to break your heart
My lashes tether to each tear
When the sun slips into the sea
I cry, wishing it could be me
I miss you so, my love, my dear
I ache day and night, all alone
My fate, a visage I bemoan
Oh, how I yearn to hold you near
Like the sun, I shall slink away
to rest in your arms 'neath the bay
From life you chose to disappear
Each day I'm haunted by grim fear
My lashes tether to each tear
I miss you so, my love, my dear
Oh how I yearn to hold you near
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
NOT WRITTEN FOR ANY CONTEST
Though I have no wish to die now
for this moment I feel much joy
ah death it courts me being coy
A time may come I know not how
yes endings have a fatal lure
and death like life can be demure
when sorrow rings my ashen brow
and springtime's warmth I can't retain
for flesh, but clay it does constrain
until that day I'll rail and howl
I'll paint the pictures in my mind
and stare at holy lights that blind
for life is precious, this I know
now leave sweet death, and let me sleep
today is not the day you'll reap
Though I have no wish to die now,
a time may come I know not how,
when sorrow rings my ashen brow,
until that day I'll rail and howl,
for life is precious, this I vow.
1/22/14
The fourth one looks and laughs like me.
She’s well-informed and takes delight
in trying hard to do what’s right.
The third can offer sympathy.
Despite her woes, she’s so much fun -
so sweet she dazzles everyone.
The second shows forth charity.
A little shy, she’s fond of songs.
Near warmth of hearth this one belongs.
The first born, I like spreading glee.
For peace and happiness I strive,
while writing keeps me most alive!
Jewels in Mother’s crown are we,
and traits we share, reflections of
the gem most brilliant – Mother’s love.
The fourth one looks and laughs like me.
The third can offer sympathy.
The second shows forth charity.
The first born, I like spreading glee.
*Jewels in Mother’s crown are we.
Nov. 25, 2017 for the Constanza contest of Craig Cornish
*This line I prefer that it would read: All Jewels in Mother's crown are we
because I pronounce Jewels as one syllable "jools" but howmanysyllables.com
puts that line at 9 syllables unless I drop the word "all" (sigh)
Colors she wowed in autumn's praise
Where tinted leaves turn fiery red,
Where gamboge dye prairies imbed.
Meadows winsome in crimson blaze
Inspired poems of heartfelt themes
Strumming passions of season's dreams.
Vying glimpse of her moonlit gaze
Resplendent motifs whirled in dance
Pleasing poise of her gifted stance.
Lauding grandeur of gilded glaze
Lyrics she wrote in flawless rhyme,
How Connie's verses transcend time!
Swaying rhythms of beauteous days
Autumn's glory adorned her art:
Words that blossomed poetic heart.
Colors she wowed in autumn's praise~
Meadows winsome in crimson blaze,
Vying glimpse of her moonlit gaze
Lauding grandeur of gilded glaze
Swaying rhythms of beauteous days.
September 24, 2022
Placed1st: In Remembrance of Connie –
Autumn Theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Suzanne Delaney
Form: Constanza
Eight syllables per line
Autumn winds chant a soulful tune
Elusive songs they choose to play
as maple branches bend and sway
Aspen trees drop their leaves too soon
Hues of umber, amber and gold
as seasonal changes unfold
Across forest floors they are strewn
Russet carpets to lie upon
when in repose a sigh is drawn
Then comes the sad cries of a loon
Haunting sounds foreshadowing death
She calls her mate with one last breath
Like withered leaves, a life was hewn
Taken from loved ones in the night
A cherished soul risen in flight
Pale light spills from a sallow moon
Beneath its glow we weep and mourn
Grief pierces like a sharpened thorn
Autumn winds chant a soulful tune
Aspen trees drop their leaves too soon
Across forest floors they are strewn
Then comes the sad cries of a loon
Like withered leaves, a life was hewn
Pale light spills from a sallow moon
September 19, 2022
In Remembrance of Connie - Autumn Theme Contest
Sponsored by Suzanne Delaney