Best Glass Poems
He sees the rose in her cheeks
She sees the wrinkles of time in her mirror
He sees the long, flowing brunette of her shining hair
She sees wisps of grey, dull hair that she can't manage
He sees shine and twinkle in her blue eyes
She sees her reflection through corrective lenses
He holds the soft, smooth hand that wears a gold band
She feels him squeeze her weathered, gnarled hand
He sees her running through the garden to greet him
She feels the pain, as she walks with her cane to meet him
He sees the girl he met and loved at seventeen
She sees the love of her life
He sees through rose colored glasses
She adores him
Dedicated to my grandparents
Contest Entry, 'Love Me Tender' sponsored by Miss Kristin Reynolds
Oh, the forest whispers to me,
as stained leaves on the ground crinkle;
and birds chirp and trill in a tree,
but too soon those leaves will wrinkle.
As I walk the wind groans and moans,
oh, the forest whispers to me;
soon the branches will be bare bones,
the crows cawing is like a plea.
Squirrels chirrup running with glee,
through the leaves that swirl, twirl and dance;
oh, the forest whispers to me,
the beauty puts me in a trance.
A stream that gurgles and thunders,
and ducks still quack and float carefree;
so many sweet scenes and wonders,
oh, the forest whispers to me.
_______________________
October 16, 2021
Poetry/Quatern/ The Stained Glass Forest
Copyright Protected, ID-10-1397-695-16
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Onomatopoeia
sponsor, Emile Pinet, Judged 11/13/2021
Fourth Place
Poem of the Day October 18, 2021
At high noon mass
thru colored glass
a playful sunray dances
for blessed sunday glances
reflected stained mosaic
hardly looks archaic
when the rainbow’s set afire
by heavenly orchestrated choir
the congregation rejoices
moved by angelic voices
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on December 9, 2019 for contest STRAND SPECIAL sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 3RD
Originally posted on October 23, 2019
Enduring in the gullibility of your
vacuous domain
Where viciousness stretched its cruel chains,
and vain vows cast in silver lined threads
were soft enough to soothe,
but sharp enough to shred.
I followed the fractures, fine as hair,
witnessed truth crackle through oxygenated air.
Your crown — little more than gilded dust,
from my puppet strings severed
I placed my trust
that you’d come undone from your reign unjust...
And in your castle carved from fears,
bloom black orchids, drenched in thistles of tears,
veiling the moon with lethal lace,
perfumed with poison, in gruesome grace.
Yet I refuse to drown in the seas of the artless,
like a marionette, silenced and heartless:
for I am the silhouette of silk and solace,
soaring beyond chains of brutality and malice,
To an island where thorn less love blooms,
and faith is the melody to erase written gloom,
from the sinister streaks of the narcissistic sun-stain
I ricochet amidst the night and champagne rain...
Don’t tell me the moon is shining;
show me the glint of light on broken glass.
Anton Chekhov
the thunderclap
of breaking pane,
frightening.
splintered shards -
remains
of jagged lightning.
those tears I bleed…
my fist is raw.
blackness crawls
out of
the shattered hole.
a fearsome
flood of grinding rain
insane.
my knuckles sore
black and blue.
i’ve kicked a metaphor -
the dog. its bite
worse than the storm.
the glass-eye moon
reflects my mood,
outside the door,
where i was rash.
those tears i bleed
on a handkerchief
so I won’t forget
the glass…so I won’t forget
the glass…
2/22/2023
Writing Challenge - G Words
Constance La France - sponsor
Glass Memories
How fragile are the things we see so clear?
With passing time, there is no dim of view.
Its frank acuity often fraught with fear,
these mind photos of faces we once knew.
The looking glass of memory’s crystalline.
Translucent veil from there and there to here.
But it grows sharper with the stretch of time.
Peer into the mirror, friend. Truth will appear.
Glass memories are the prize of wizened eyes.
The treasures that are owed for all the pain.
At any time or place they call to comfort,
and from their age-old truth is much to gain.
Reflections from our memoirs please the soul.
True images remind us that we're old.
6/25/17
with bitter winds of sand and spray
and flecks of rain against my face
how different this land looks today
a drenched, vast, unforgiving place.
as turbines veiled in mist offshore
first fade then vanish out at sea
the sun, it seems, shines here no more
with frosted air surrounding me.
yet how could light forever shine
upon a beach, its sea and crowds
when storms have always over time
obscured the sun behind the clouds?
such weathered moments on the land
can help cast magic with cold seas
- one day this broken glass and sand
may form warm, precious memories.
I sit in stillness
framed by glass
the world outside dances
sunlight spills like golden honey.
yet within these walls I stay.
regret coils.....
around me tight as a noose
lurking in shadows.
I breathe in
inhaling the vastness of
the ocean's essence.
I can feel it
my heart beats.....
steady as stone.
I glance out and see
islands shimmering like dreams…..
clouds lazily drift by.
like ghostly albatrosses.
heavy with the mental wobbling weight
of untold excruciating hours
spent in despair.
I can hear
waves hum their foaming forgotten lullabies.
spilling secrets from the depths.....
beneath the starlit sky
I sail on
gliding over waveless waters
alone in the stillness of the night.
the salt air mingles with my thoughts
hope burns
a flicker caught in the tempest howl
distant as fires beyond the glass
a pleading prayer goes unanswered.
I gaze at
the world, so alive.....
filled with laughter and song.
joy drifts in like soft misty mist
but raw regret tugs at my heart.
snowflakes fall quietly.....
silence calls.
then Darkness Descends.
Draping the earth in it’s shadowy spell.
Dancing, Drumming, Devouring.
hope's last flicker Dies…..
echoes of a Dying breath
chaos reigns supreme.
I feel frozen
in this shattered world
where cracked glass bites into
my dreams.
I’m helpless.
I am a silent witness
to a dying light.
I find myself fractured like
just like the life
I let slip away.
I’m the voyeur of lost tomorrows.
their cost carved deep into
the marrow of my soul
a sentencing weight I’ll carry forever.
Davy Jones: Do you fear… death? Do you fear that dark abyss? All your deeds laid bare, all your sins punished?
—Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest 2006
ALONE IN GLASS BOTTOM
Alone in glass bottom,
with plankton underneath -
boat’s in midriff of sea.
I’ve plenty of water.
Sink or swim - am I free?
Alone in glass bottom
Should I write a message?
Bottle it up or send…?
Could be my last chance to
navigate and defend.
Alone in glass bottom
Should I fish for a shark
and devour great white fin -
drive it deep in my heart?
Would that too be a sin?
Alone in glass bottom
swirling last gulp of rum,
the famous Davy Jones
frees the gold…and I grieve,
as the deep binds my bones.
4/6/2022
Contest: Form M - Monchielle
Sponsor: Constance La France
Theme: Ocean/Sea
RhymeZone and HowManySyllables.
Walking along the beach's sandy shore,
I witnessed the ocean's mighty roar.
Sea weeds with seashells and sea glass, a tangled mess,
Hiding a treasure, a glass bottle's caress.
Within its confines, a time capsule's plea,
An 80-year-old message, a desperate decree.
A sender's hope, that we'd survive,
The ravages of war, and truly thrive.
Smooth and colorful, like fragments of dreams,
Sea glass pieces, like jewels it seems.
Emerald green and sapphire, sparkling with delight
A testament to love, on a romantic night.
Perhaps a couple, once shared a toast,
Their glasses tossed, a memory engrossed.
For future romantics, a token to keep,
A symbol of love, forever to reap.
The sea glass's glitter, it never waned,
I brought some home, my lover's heart sustained.
A token of forever, a love so true,
Sea glass, a metaphor for me and you.
If ever beckoned by the broken glass
I offer instantly these scarred hands
And bleed
Embracing sharpest, cruel edges,
most exquisite lines
And bleed
upon piercing, jagged, penetrating points
brilliant with dancing sunlight
And bleed
poured out into a universe benign, hard surfaces
warm in crimson puddles of all I was
And stand
And bleed
And know then –
Broken glass does not love back.
Inspired by Victor Buhagiar’s romantic writes.
GLASS SLIPPERS
He sees their shine -
on his knees, he’d kiss
her glass slippers.
The ballroom floor -
first date jitters,
diamond waxed.
The newness of their faces,
skintight with anticipation -
illumination of the mirrors.
The crystal chandelier,
like a tall tale;
simply a fairy tale.
Arising like the North star,
he dares to sit -
she’s vulnerable
like her glass shoe,
still breakable,
but before she can entertain
her timorous thoughts,
his lips warm hers, like apple cider -
hot cinnamon elixir.
The gears in play,
puzzle pieces find their match,
a stone’s throw from the hearth.
Her glass slippers so shiny,
shapely heels -
he thinks, ‘what if she lost just one?’
‘Would I find her and remove the other one,
too?’ Such thoughts make him blush.
Her red lips amuse his thoughts.
Illusions of cologne, polished hair,
a hand held out for a waltz -
her pulse in the dream.
He’s swept up as her gown
whirls around and around,
hypnotic and his knees
nearly buckle
as her spray of sweet-scented hair
spreads to his heart.
The cyclonic pull
of the storm
renders them both breathless.
The eye
is hard to find -
they waltz in the air.
12/7/2021
I tried to fly without white wings
I cried inside with soul dying
Broken spirit broken dreams
Can you hear it my black heart screams
I was asleep and yet awake
Nightmares so deep they escape
The well in me the hell in me
Tormented spirits keep jailing me
I hide my heart in my shoe
Like it is money or gold’s fool
I walk around limping in pain
For I hate sun and love the rain
For sun makes clear all shadows
I’d disappear like a haunted ghost
Ever so near to holy hope
Depression is weird like me you know
Glassy eyes from teal tears fried
My heart broken my insides tied
Into burnt knots of mahogany
Lost in thought my glassy wings
How do you change what's always been,
the mourning that it is no more ~
a crystal chalice lost at sea,
a long-remembered memory...
Like shattered dreams our hearts recall,
they sink like pieces of the past
in salty tears to sandy graves,
where edges of our pain are washed
and smooth the surface of regret.
You slipped, like sand through wishing hands
too slow to reach and catch your fall.
~ months and years and polished edges
that can't be glued back like before.
Yet, on a bright and foggy morn,
hints of color peak through the haze
of yesterday then swept ashore.
We hold a peace that was never
a visage that escaped our gaze...
So doth each nameless grain of sand
Deny the fate of those who went before
Believing there is purpose to their flow
As waves believe their haven is the shore
Idly they joust in momentary queues
Unable to resist time’s ebbing tide
Each grain a silent second paying dues
Destined to complete its senseless ride
Thus, pride becomes ensnared in ego’s dread
Of those who challenge reason’s need
Join the depleted ranks of reason’s dead
Believing somehow they will all be freed
Hold still, cling to your dream, the die is cast
Death’s hours will encompass first and last.
John G. Lawless
©6/16/2023