Best Vines Poems

Like tender loving arms, they wrap around
   old monuments of stone set on the ground;
those silent sentinels that stand their guard
   above the souls, we honor and regard.

To honor and regard through all the years
   when loved ones come...

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I walk along the old familiar path in the wood of my childhood -
the place that I willingly abandoned  
for the lure of new friends and activities 
that carried me ever farther from my simple carefree days.

Nothing here is quite the same,
and all that...

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I haven’t sat here for quite some time.
Our back patio, beneath the brown umbrella, in a chair that glides.
Someone else is with her now, 
So I am here.
In this special space.

Remembering times together and with friends.
Loud laughter broken with many careless words. 
Bravado to spare.

Burgers...

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An oak tree, three hundred years he had stood.
Half-dryad, half-man, he has seen about everything,
Sadness and kindness, but never has he felt truly loved.

A tender vine lovingly nurtured under his darkened shade.
"Twine yourself around me, embrace me with your vine.
Perhaps a mystical chemistry will bond...

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To break through the darkness, into the fresh sunlight
To press ever upwards towards the light so bright
Twisting and turning and stretching arms out wide
Climbing pushing ever upwards, no more time to bide

Nothing can stop the growth, forever on and up
Until you wrapped around me and...

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Twilight, stay with me
 in hours between wrong and right;
 when confessions are murmured 
upon this life half done,
 that past mid-life, 
I ask for reprieve to settle 
unsolved desires those which 
enable my fears a choking 
of seasons' absence-

 Northwinds may be cold ,
cruel...

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tangled vines and shasta daisies embrace
long forgotten wagon wheels . . . 
the whisper of a breeze

________________________
August 6, 2012

Poetry/Kimo/tangled vines
Copyright Protected, ID 08- 4116-88-06
All Rights Reserved, 2012, Constance La France

Written for the Standard contest, tangled vines
sponsor, Brian Strand, HM, Judged 08/08/2012


Featured poem week of September...

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And the cemetery was inside a grove
   of tangled vines and rocks covered in moss.
Some toppled stones were scattered in the grass;
   too many years had gone to honor loss.

Too many years had gone to honor loss
   of souls,...

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Life was the wing that gave them flight
 as they soared ever so high
 now death is the darkness of their plight
 where the wind mournfully sighs

 Dry bones bound by eternity's chain
 rest serenely 'neath tall shade trees
 where dreams have decayed with the...

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Crystallized dew drops scatter across vines in winter,
while I can feel the harsh grip of the season reaching for my throat,
slithering ever closer, bitter air sweeping across crackling skin.
Loneliness weighs heavy beneath ashen clouds that coat the skies.
The scent of dry ozone fills my nostrils...

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somehow and in someway, just once today
                         ends twist, making it so hard to resist
      ...

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The leaves, long gone, each golden child carried
on autumn draft to reach a season's death,
portends bitter squalls will blow the harried
vines with long, cruel winter's icy breath.

Now slumber long beneath the warming banks
upon your tender roots deep in the earth.
All while stillness patrols your sentried...

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I rest my eyes away from you,
and I feel the grip of our 
entwining vines. 

I feel how tightly they hold us—
I smell the fragrance of the
monomaniac squeeze—
and I feel the grip of my vines
loosen. 

I feel a wisp of cold wind—
the only real sign that you
have long...

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Heather in a garden
Or heather in a store
Flowers beg a pardon,
Lovely forever more.

Vines climb up a wall,
Effortlessly tall
Vines climb up a gate,
Chopping is their fate.

Flowers and vines,
‘til the end of times.
Together forever
Trumpets and heather....

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The old homestead is a shambles,
nearly hidden in wild brambles.
My mind reveals a happy place
that had once held your funny face.

The tree swing we once swung upon
is fallen rotted and now gone.
How many the years, or the miles,
have stolen those days of our smiles?

I survey...

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