Best Lafrance Poems
*Note: A 60-year annual tradition that involved a mysterious visitor leaving three
roses at the grave of writer Edgar Allan Poe on the anniversary of his birthday
ended in January 2010. Curators of the Poe House and Museum are at a loss to
explain who left these gifts and why they stopped. On many occasions people kept
vigils near Poe’s grave during this period that began in 1949, but no one ever saw
someone leaving the roses. In the morning, however, they were always on his
grave. Poe is considered the father of the American short story and
his poem The Raven is one of his best known works.
Once upon a midnight dreary, Poe heard a tapping at his window
While grieving the loss of his young bride, a maiden “angels named Lenore,”
A radiant teen whose long, black hair in gentle breezes would billow,
Tapping at the window ceased, but suddenly it was heard at his door
Upon opening it, a Raven flew in repeating, “Nevermore”
At first he welcomed this odd visitor until Poe whispered, “Lenore”
When he heard his word echo, the strange Raven he began to abhor
He asked if he’d see his bride again and the bird replied, “Nevermore”
Though Poe died in eighteen forty-nine, a mystery evolved much later
A century after his death, his grave had an annual visitor
Roses were left on his birthday by someone whose love appeared greater
Who had left these floral gifts forever stumped the Poe House curator
Perhaps the answer can only be explained by reincarnation
Did the Raven embody the spirit of Poe’s beloved Lenore
If so, perhaps the Raven returned again in a life rotation
In human form she visited to lay roses on the earthen floor
And upon her death in two-thousand nine, she took to the skies once more
A Raven who now joins the flock circling above her late husband’s grave \/
Could it be her spirit remains with Poe, as it did in life before \/ \/ \/
Bringing him in the afterlife all the roses a poet could crave \/ \/ \/ \/
For those who consider this possibility totally absurd
Just consider the fantasies Poe created with the written word
By Carolyn Devonshire
Contest Title: “Among the Dead,” sponsored by Constance LaFrance ~ A Rambling
Poet ~
Skeletons of Lace
Autumn’s leaves decorate lanes with discarded artistry –
A bright collage in maple, oak and poplar hues;
Too soon the colors fade like early fading twilights;
No restoration possible – no color tint renewed.
At the feet of Autumn, litter of autumnal dust,
Crumpled remnants – the season’s still life portrait lies;
Cracked and brittle shells of shady summer portraitures
Gathered for a funeral pyre – one last good-bye.
Fall sweeps in on icy wings yet one last leaf remains
Gone the green of summer’s blush – autumn’s repose -
Once life giving veins - a ghostly skeleton revealed -
A clear lacy legacy, to birth new life, exposed.
Best New Poem - October 2020
1st Place Writing Challenge - Decay - Constance LaFrance 10-20-20
1st Place Completely Your Choice - Brian Strand 11/11/20
1st Place Podium Placing - Brian Strand
Chosen for PS It's Poetry
9-15-22
Contest: Poetry Marathon Mile 14
Sponsor: Mark Toney
The river looks calm and inviting,
a natural gift of beauty.
Waterfowl inhabit to feed and nest.
A gateway shared by creatures,
dangers hidden beneath.
The river is beautifully calm and serene,
its powerful dangers are often unseen.
Currents can swirl hidden from shore,
tragically become be a drowning door.
A natural resource to respect and admire,
a gift of nature that will never expire.
Unique with brackish water properties too,
with legends of sea creatures venturing through.
a white egret soars
diving into spawning fish ~
a river regale
9/5/2020 (edited 9/6/20)
Writing Challenge - Nature, Four in One
Sponsor: Constance LaFrance
True love
if you're lucky enough
to find and nurture it;
the ticking hand of the clock,
as eternal as a cascading waterfall.
True love,
if it pulls you out
of a bottomless abyss, weaves
a glittering tapestry of enchantment
that remains unbroken.
True love,
if gifted to you
by the heavenly father,
is endless; as everlasting as time itself;
a gift that keeps on giving!
True love,
if you can hold on to it,
never slips out of your grasp
for it is as sure as God's boundless
and limitless blessings!
True love,
if it unexpectedly sneaks up
and hits you in the pit of your soul,
may the happiness it brings you
be infinite, I fervently pray.
Submitted for...
Writing Prompt - Endless - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance LaFrance
Date written:06/08/2021
"I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)I am never without it"
Quote _ by E.E. Cummings
My sweet love, you will always be in my heart
Breath of my very breath, your enchanting soul
You stay locked inside me, never to depart,
Being without you, I could never be whole.
When I think of you my eyes become teary
Recalling so many thrilling times we shared,
I struggle to move beyond, I grow weary,
But then, I recall how very much you cared.
Where'er I go, dear, I carry you along
It is comforting to know I'm not alone,
Forever, you are my verse; you are my song
Here in my heart, keeping me ever your own,
So, as time passes, I long to be with you
In other lovely places when life is through.
[2. Lost to Heaven – My Wife]
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Written September 3, 2022
Submitted to “Writing Challenge – In My Heart – S Forms” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance LaFrance
[rhymes checked with RhymeZone;
11-syllable lines checked with HMS.com]
an early bird
a dew chilled
worm
daybreak
tug-o-war
3/20/2021
Let’s Get Creative With Haiku Poetry Contest
Constance LaFrance sponsor
I hid in plain sight
Mocked the censors
Defied the preachers
Chuckled
At their ineptitude
Took refuge
In the blank page
Hiding myself
In swirling lines
Dancing
Along the borders
Of truth
Cursed them
In muted metaphor
Defied them
In metered verse
Challenged them
In rebellious rhyme
Laughed as they counted
Syllables and iambs
Punctuated
My verses freedom
For they were frozen
And I a seething cauldron
Of love and hate
Struggling youth
Battling
The lunacy of life’s
Illusions
Thus I wrote
And hid
In plain sight
On a blank page
4/3/2023
Writing Challenge – ‘R’ Words Poetry Contest
Constance LaFrance - sponsor
Cold
winter
sheds his coat
and waves goodbye.
Welcome his passing;
rejoice and sing the song
of springtime awakening.
Renewed spirit soars as we view
blossoming of trees, as every plant
rebounds springing out of cold, wintry death.
Joy bursts wide with the greening up of earth.
New life rises, enlightening man
as beauty blooms anew with bliss.
Celebrate resurrection.
Our crucified Lord rose
from death restoring
the hope that man
too will thrive
past death's
curse.
February 18, 2022
Contest: E Forms - Etheree
Sponsor: Constance LaFrance
entry for Old Christmas Poem Contest by Constance LaFrance
"Christmas treasure? A baby's worth is so complex
God can use all those things we'd mark off with an " X ". by Poet
Twas the night before Christmas, the manger's convinced,
it stands ready to cradle a Savior and Prince.
The no vacancy sign caused men's wonder and doubt,
manger's role is a pivot. God's working it out!
As we gawk, looking on well-known scene from the past
deeming inn-keeper's choice of a manger - miscast.
Though the stable was clean, men have questioned, reviled
why this ignoble place to birth God's only Child?
Host of animals set, angels' message is heard
in the Bethlehem fields causing sheep no small stir.
"Give all glory to God, there's no reason to fear,"
Lamb of God has come down; 'tis the season to cheer.
Time elapsed since the manger, a star claims the scene
in fair Bethlehem town, we find kings have convened.
The star signaled their hope in the easternmost skies
God cut short anxious Herod's deceitful disguise.
Those three gifts that kings brought were the promise and fee
this young family needed when God said to flee.
Christmas treasure? A baby's worth is so complex
God can use all those things we'd mark off with an " X ".
December 17, 2021
Mrs. Robin, busy as a bee
visits my home's skylight annually
She builds a nest there carefully
her private retreat, only I can see
She commandeers my yard militarily
hopping to and fro imperiously
Ever seeking bark or twig assiduously
to feather her penthouse more comfortably
A half-dozen blue eggs she lays surreptitiously
Settling down over them protectively
Sheltered from the elements so cunningly
She awaits their hatching expectantly...
One day, her chirpings' cease, inevitably
Mrs. Robins' dreams realized successfully
She's flown the coop, perforce happily
Her nest, forlorn ~ stares at me emptily
July 10, 2020
Bird Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance LaFrance
My muse opens my eyes to starlight, when in darkness I would cower.
~by poet
My dear muse is a faithful advisor
An ancient spirit, a writing treasure.
She guides my words, for hers are much wiser
with perception far beyond all measure.
We paint images; a pen is our brush.
Crumbled pages lie about in the den
where we huddle in thought, hour after hour.
She insists life shouldn't be lived in a rush
and smelling roses will heighten my Zen.
My muse is inspiring, a moonflower.
No vagabond muse, she's never wandered.
Nor stargazer, scanning constellations.
I always praise her for time not squandered
and cannot blame her for my frustrations
when I become distracted in mid thought.
Asleep and drifting in the midnight sky,
she fills my head with rhapsodies in dreams.
Romantic notions whispered to my heart ~
Lines for a sonnet to make readers sigh
when love is decreed beneath pale moonbeams.
More journeys than I, has my muse traveled.
Her metaphors are gifts offered to me
when I'm lost for words, a bit unraveled.
How grateful I am for her loyalty.
Without her guidance I'd surely fall short
of any claim of poetic success.
Somewhat feisty, yet whimsically droll,
urging me to write a mirthful retort.
Skillfully she directs me with finesse,
this glorious muse living in my soul.
May 25, 2022
Form O - Ode Contest
Sponsor - Constance LaFrance
Theme - Person (although a muse, real to me)
Our seconds- they drift by each day-
like little pieces fly,
and where they fall and where they lay
can make us laugh or cry.
Of all the little pieces, some
together, shape a form
on how our life will grow, become-
or vanish in its storm.
Our little pieces build up time-
from seconds grow to years;
so many- but they all entwine
to bring us smiles or tears.
And all our little pieces hold
the memories we keep;
like through an hourglass they unfold
our lifetime, in a heap.
Our little pieces we must use
to never waste a one,
for as they fly, so quick diffuse-
can never be redone.
Our seconds- they drift by each day-
as little pieces fly.
Each one shapes up our life's pathway-
from birth until we die.
September 15, 2016
~3rd Place~
Contest: Brian's Select 4
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 06/05/2020
~3rd Place~
Contest: All The Little Pieces
Sponsor: Constance LaFrance
Judged: -9/22/2016
I write upon nature's birds, wild backyard songbirds.
It is a pleasure to feed them year-round,
and seeing them at my feeders,
their vibrant colors shine.
Cardinals, blue jays and hummingbirds steal the show,
entertaining with their sweet cheerful songs.
Fresh nectar awaits hummingbirds, it won't be long,
can't wait to see their tiny feathers glow.
Even though it's for a short time
to watch the small speeders
with their helicopter wings making buzzing sounds.
Seeing them brings me pleasure beyond words.
Canadian geese squawking in their v shaped herd.
Flying near the river where ducks abound,
busy quacking amongst peepers,
as owl hoots heard from pines.
I love to watch and identify birds I know
and learn new ones the feeders bring along.
2/2/21
Contest: My Invented Form - I Write Upon
Sponsor: Constance LaFrance
“Grief is just love with no place to go”
quote from: Jaime Andersen
Here
Among
The Ashes
A pewter urn
Holds sweet memories.
Softly a candle glows,
I can feel your gentle touch,
Through the darkness, your eyes smiling.
For a moment, you are beside me,
Yearning for one more day of your embraces.
~~~
“Grief”, I’ve heard, “Is love with no place to go”
It leaves a deep hollow in the heart;
Sacred now, are the memories
That soften the ache of loss.
Reeling, lost in images,
Quiet nights of dreams,
Until the dawn,
Casts her light
On life
Death
Date: Feb. 19, 2022
For: E Forms - Etheree Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance LaFrance
Grammar and spelling verified on P.S. Counter/Checker
Placed 2nd in contest
Chantelle Anne is my poetic friend,
our friendship will never ever end;
we both like poems quite dark,
she is my own meadowlark ...
and I pray our lives will always blend !
____________________
April 08, 2022
Poetry/Limerick/My Forever Friend
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1446-386-08
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance LaFrance
Tribute to Chantelle Anne Cooke
Written for the Standard contest, Paean On Poets
sponsor, Margarita Lillico, Judged 06/17/2022