I saw you sitting in the park. I was pulled in by your blue green eyes & they tore me apart. When I spoke to you. your voice was like an angel playing a harp. it melted my heart and I had to try to win your heart.
Old weeping willow why do you cry
Your beauty is green leaves not blue
Your roots a pillow from which to thrive
As Mother Nature’s sun smiles on you
Many a kid has used your brown branches
To climb you or swing in your shadowy shade
Many a poet you inspire romantic antics
Carving heart in your bark or writing on page
Your children near and far mirror you
And some have been lumbered sadly
Furniture and houses made as proof
You must miss them being near badly
Do you weep due to lost dreams
Or is it the loss of your forest green
Is it because man pollutes the stream
Or you find no peace as we keep warring
I’d like to apologize for our ignorant ways
For changing your forest for selfish reasons
I hear your song in the wind each day
I cherish you at each every emerald season
So you stand on brown holy ground
It’s holy because you peach persevere
May you live forever in our town
As a preserved prize that thrives here
It looked just like a coaster—
a membrane of soft plastic,
yellow, green and cobalt blue,
the colors swirling at your touch,
like it could feel something too.
I did not know ‘til later,
that it also reflected you.
I thought it just a trinket,
a trick of vinyl and hue,
given not with coy delight,
but offered straight and true.
It changed when touched
(just like a heart)
and maybe so did you.
Like heat that leaves no mark,
you slipped across my skin—
a shimmer, then a fading,
too fleeting to box in.
You moved like light through water,
and left me changed again,
before the stillness flowed.
I no longer chase the shimmer,
or try to name its shade.
Some things are meant to vanish,
but not before they stain.
You left no mark I can point to—
only the ache that still remains
when I remember you.
Of burning sight, we grow the flora,
From dancing light of my aurora.
A stunted garden, met with showers,
Brought to bloom, bouquet of flowers.
In casting passion, bright the sky,
Of green and blue we share an eye.
The way of stars and trees alike,
Through boreal we join and hike.
Merry go round a circle of dreams
Friends are found as we journey
To find a place where you can esteem
Climb magic mountains of hope
Where you grow like a tree
(Chorus)
A———————————A is for Amazing
U———————-You are amazing to me
T——————————Teal timeless faces
I————————I see you in everything
S——————-Sunny sails singing songs
T——————Teal tears never shed alone
I—Indigo eyes black brown blue or green
C——See courage beauty autistic dream
Tattoo my heart with a star of youth
Forever change my spirit I love you I do
Bright sunny delight red flowers bloom
Love makes us rise jump high as the moon
Repeat chorus end
Blue-green eyes, the color of the sea
Pools of the ocean, their waves so free
Tears of saltwater, shed behind doors
Cauldrons of water, the rain that they pour
Enchanted daggers they stare into enemies
Or looking into distant moonlight reveries
No one sees what truly lies behind
To the turmoil within, most remain blind
Blue-green eyes, how mystical in nature
To treasure them forever, I will always be sure
green and blue are best
for ages put to the test
berry sky, jade leaves
knee deep sage grasses
waving like sapphire oceans
and wandering wind
matter-of-fact pretty
in saffron everyday hours
when sun goes all out
blooms in emeralds
beneath life's teal canopy
minty woods, pink mist
A cloudy blanket sheaths the peaks,
Wrapped in blue, they look enthralling,
Emerald trees behold the sight!
Milky river of mist like creeks
flows overhead this scene sprawling,
What a magical view and bright!
Here is found peace that this heart seeks,
When the morning sun is crawling
high to spread its radiant light!
In wispy whispers, their glow speaks,
Green, white and azure's soft drawling
arouses sheer joy and delight!
A myriad thoughts stirred within,
God alone can such landscapes spin!
1st June 2023
Image #1
Trilonnet poetry contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
redbirds are soaring
clouds are walking on the skies
turquoise afternoon
diamonds in the sea
reflecting the roaming sun
until the red wall
green birds are singing
in chambers next to the sky
the gold sunshine blues
This painting sings a song to me
It is simply titled “Storm”
One can almost smell the green prairie
And feel blueberry breeze so warm.
Humble house sits so proud
it’s heart beat drumming welcome
exhaling country songs along the halo of clouds
Against the storm born to tell them
Of good green times and happy days
How the fish on the line didn’t get away
Of hard times when we lost our faith
Because divine took love one away
The storm is perfect in this song
We all are a painted note that is new
Greens and browns yellows found
in tender touch of blues.
7/2/2022
Written for This Pastel Painting Poetry Contest
Sponsor Craig Cornish
If you were a melody you would be complex
Blue breezy and free dry yet wet
If you were a melody you'd play with my heart
String me along singing song of God
You would stay on my mind like maroon birthmark
You would ring in my ears sweet and tart
Rainbow kisses from you would reign
Melodious and yellow with green to tame
You would be like a river dark and deep
Yet have shallow sunny spots to attract my feet
I'd step into your song as a single note
And be carried along in the kaleidoscope
That is your creation as composer of love
If you were a melody I could never get enough.
6/14/2022
treetop canary
singing under cobalt skies ~
unseen midst green leaves
Canary
Syllable count checked with Howmanysyllables
Written on 8/14/2021
For: Songbird haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Green, yellow, blue hues
Rainbows are built from it all.
Calm sea, and scorched sand
Written: August 11, 2021
dont litter dont steal dont kill and dont hurt people
dancer in the dense vegetation
of a marshland
echoes
a harsh-like call
a very unbirdlike call
of a gallinute rail bird
with glossy blue-green plummage
bright yellow legs with long talons
and an long orange
and yellow beak ...
a secretive bird
who is a weak flyer
mostly flightless
loving thick reed beds
and underbrush to run through
an opportunist feeder of bugs
can swim to find fish
and an occasional frog
endangered in some places
due to loss of habitat
listen for whistle-like
squeak-like grunts
when near marshlands
or dense forests ...
_____________________
April 16, 2021
Poetry/Verse/blue-green bird
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1347-464-16
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard Contest, All Yours (Apr 17)
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged, 04/16/2021
First Place
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