One frog, two frogs, three
Climbing up the lush green tree
Do they feel alone?
Escaped to freedom
in fragrant, rose petaled bliss,
to feel sunshine's kiss!
Through the gap, rose climbed away.
Has my sweet rose gone to stay?
Daring, creeping Rose
in the pearl dripping moonlight;
by dawn, out of sight.
Glazed days and a better life
await Rose, far from plum strife.
It starts with a map spread across
the kitchen table,
fingertips tracing the jagged contour lines
like a language only the heart can translate.
Some call it a hobby,
but you know the truth by the weight on your back-
and the contents in your pack.
It is a holy burden,
a physical manifestation of a need
to be smaller than the world but larger then
your imagination.
There is a fever
Qin the rhythm of the ascent,
the way the lungs burn in synchronicity with the calves.
You aren't just walking;
you are consuming the distance,
swallowing the switchbacks
until the trailhead is a memory
and the valley floor is a map you’ve outgrown.
Your boots have memorized
the texture of granite and root,
the specific crunch of shale under a desperate heel.
They say "obsessed" like it’s a cage,
but here, in the thin air where the trees give up,
it feels more like an opening.
You hunt the summit not for the view,
but for the moment the internal noise finally stops-
when the only sound left is the wind
stripping away everything you thought you were
until you are nothing but breath,
moving upward unable to-
turn back.
sun bronzed burgundy
bearing the thumbprint of god
like garnet sunset skies odd
beautiful climbing
warmed by rich gold rays of life
blithe above green strife
thrilling to breezes
with memories of moonlight
within bluebirds' sight
clematis coyly
attracts stares from everywhere
at beauty in air
Falling from Jacobs Ladder,
Becoming mad at matter,
I'm battered and bruised,
I used all my belief,
My relief covered in grief,
A brief moment of freedom,
Came from falling some,
Clinging on to what's to come,
Little crumbs of hope,
Become threads to the rope,
I use to elope,
Sliding down a steep slope,
Coping with the climb,
Priming myself again,
I know I can win,
My resolve growing thin,
Dissolving into my skin,
Evolving as I sink in,
Thinking it's too late,
Debating another try,
I don't see a reason why,
Every time I reach the sky,
I fly off the hinges,
On the fringes of society,
Bingeing on what I can see,
Enjoying it temporarily,
Knowing what is soon to be,
It happens repeatedly,
I get beat every time,
Climbing the ladder inside.
SPIRITUALLY CLIMBING
Rocks of Sisyphus,
My faith move away from me;
My spirit climbing:-
A thousand ships through the dark nights sail,
to mysterious lands and adventurous trails.
With a thirst for life, I cannot rest,
when one is finished, there comes another quest.
I travel many paths into the unknown,
with each path completed, I know I’ve grown.
Though dangers lurk at most every turn,
I sense I’m protected; I have no concern.
I try new things all the time,
I’ve never seen a mountain I’d not try to climb.
Life is for living so bring it on,
I’ve never been broken except for a bone.
I’ll keep on a traveling across the seven seas,
Enjoying the adventure, and the ocean’s breeze.
My kitty, Harry climbs tall red brick walls,
alarmed, I could not believe my eye balls;
while I trim roses climbing,
up, up with perfect timing,
in the garden- he leaps and never falls !
Poetry/Limerick/Climbing Roses and Kitty/AI Free
Copyright Protected, ID 06-1742-121-27
All Rights Reserved, 2025, Constance La France
Copying any part of this work is prohibited without permission
light pink suit
splatters of blood
secret service men climbing into motorcade
Dallas Texas
November 22, 1963
some of us will never be the same
Courage was what fueled Nkrumah’s flame
Loyal he stood through storm and shame
Integrity carved in his every stride
Memorable his name will not subside
Beyond doubt Ghana’s finest head
In spirit and in stories still widespread
Never bowed to foreign hands
Ghana as Africa lost a visionary leader.
Generations rise on what he gave
Hope reborn from the hearts of the brave
Ashanti drums still beat his praise
Nation proud through darkest days
Africa’s light in Ghana lamp.
I've carried time like a coffin — an eternity.
Feels heavier than dark gravity
Devotion that cruel peculiarity;
in me, it shattered — clarity
now it's just deathly polarity.
Structured, then... infirmity
Silence bloated with verbosity!
Thank you expendability
to reach low generality;
close my chest cavity
With immensurability,
blessed by fate's absurd
decree I kiss the
edge of certainty.
My unthinkability —
death offers no pity,
It's just a bullet
labeled tragedy.
To me...
Finally
We used to climb up the round metal fire escape at Columbus School
This was Chariton Iowa, where no one saw or cared
A summer morning was the perfect time to do this
Before the sun heated the tube up, making it unbearable on our bare feet
I loved tall trees
with smooth bark
and branches stepped
like a spiral staircase
around a trunk.
These made
for an easy climb.
Trees whose tops
would bend in the wind
were best, you could ride
them out to the limit
of your daring.
There was a freedom
I found at height - all fears
were ground dwellers
and barked their fury
at the base of trees
unable to climb up.
I would stay high
in a canopy for hours,
riding on the soft lift
of a dream, far above
myself, the world
and its hurt.
Out of school I would
seek refuge in the lofty
solitude of a tree
and stay there
until I was healed before
coming down.
Now old, unsteady
on my feet,
I still long for a tall tree
and its healing height.
I have learned to look up
from the ground.
A long gone snake returns today.
Slithering around is its way.
With this climate warming
It’s actively breeding.
So check your own space every day.
It seems most active in the night
And it could bring you quite a fright.
But it’s not venomous
Which surely is a plus.
And it’s afraid of the bright light.
One in a billion
Can dare this amazing
Courageous rock climbing
This one second of success
It reflects years of training
One second of success
Can also be a second
That takes a life
It's too dangerous
There is a sense
Of accomplishment
As great as the risk
The need of great strength
Experience and self-confidence
Such gift of overcoming fear
Is a gift that comes from above
In this sport, it's nerve wracking
Everyone goes crazy in their own way
And when strength and courage mixes
Automatically comes success.
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