Enchants, “Dors, mon amour,” night of romance.
Long ago, he crooned, put hearts in a trance.
André Claveau, nearing fifty years old,
effulgence of French lips, Eurovision’s gold.
Some audience, annoyed, at love’s deep sleep -
need be left alone, or for love to leap…
The words, that poetically churn, nonsense
to the incensed, these verses of suspense.
Sleep, my love - will she awake or’s love passed?
He’s locked his princess in tower of past.
The contentment, of love, some find boring -
nuances “ever-after” adoring.
1958, Giraud and Delanoë,
do stare into the lover’s peace and joy.
Sleep is in the hollow of his heart. She
is together with him all night, in lee.
It is not just in movement, we give praise,
for the hope of birdsong clings to dusk’s blaze.
“With all the refrains of the night,” heart beats.
“The sun is still far from daylight,” its sweets.
Poet might interpret eternal love
as in moment or forever “above.”
Such love is felt so deep and stirred in sleep.
It’s present in a Frenchman’s tongue. I weep.
Categories:
dors, love, sleep, song,
Form: Couplet
I saw a girl down on all fours
Who looked just like Diana Dors
A Marmite girl
Whose toes would curl
Whenever Tom finished his chores!
Categories:
dors, humor,
Form: Limerick
repose-toi, chassons tes ennuis
mon amour, laisse-moi te fredonner une berceuse
oublie tout ce qui te pèse, ferme les yeux
mon oreille doucement collée à ton coeur
je désire me glisser dans tes bras, être bercée
doucement par les vagues de ta poitrine
nous voici naufragés, la tempête apaisée
tentons de laisser derrière nous les débris puisque
dans la sérénité du présent, tout est calme et sublime
Translated from my poem SLEEP, MY LOVE
Posted on October 10, 2021
Categories:
dors, longing, love, peace, sleep,
Form: Free verse
D-readed
O-utbreak
R-abidly
S-preads
N-astiness
O-f
C-oronavirus
I-n
D-irty
O-nslaught
Topic: Birthday of Sister Dors Nocido (June 12)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Categories:
dors, birthday,
Form: Acrostic
Snowy fields are disappearing fast,
Patches of green are starting to last.
Robin redbreasts are the first to nest,
Indicating we'll soon see the rest.
Northern winds morph into warm breezes,
Gently ensuring life unfreezes.
Ice starts to thin in the streams and lakes,
Shuttering and groaning as it breaks.
Cold nights warm as longer days begin,
Offering spring a chance to creep in.
Migrating geese head home, as they fly
In numbers so great, they fill the sky.
Noisy honks seem to propel them forth,
Growing louder as they head back north.
Smelts and trout swim up rivers and creeks,
Only spawning for a few short weeks.
Odors take on a sweet earthy smell,
Now, wafting from where daffodils dwell.
(Acrostic)
3/19/2017
Categories:
dors, beautiful, daffodils, imagery, seasons,
Form: Acrostic
Fleur noir
Fleur effrayée le soir
Fleur de la nuit
Fleur invisible
Fleur qui n'a jamais touché la pluie
Une fleur qui n’a jamais dansé dans le vent
Une fleur qui ne chante
La fleur qui se cache nue
S`est jamais souvenu
Une fleur qui est tout simplement
Une petite fleur
Toutes les fleurs avec des pétales brisés
Enfin réunis
Au-dessus de mon cercueil
Aujourd'hui, vous êtes tous au soleil
Je dors avec la lune
Categories:
dors, memory, sorrow,
Form: I do not know?
like the moon that hugs the sky at night.
like a flower uncut that scents the garden bright
a rare one of a kind number
the warm embrace of slumber
i wake you hard
with full regard
skin on skin to the bone,
the grind, the screaming moan,
climaxes like dominos fall
rapid and jaw dropping
catch breath
whisper in the dark
the euphoria of a notion
(i hear you think
"the time has passed long enough
time enough
I shall not wait
a minute longer
I need my breath to run
fast and hard
I need to try to catch this air
but I don't want to"
in a deep base i link)
reply
whisper in your heart
"comme un arc de ciel
like a rainbow
tu touches mon coeur
you touch my heart
danse avec moi comme des cygnes sur un lac
dance with me like swans on a lake"
a melody in the language of romance
serenade the sweet taste of light
like the moon that hugs the sky at night
bonne nuit ma chérie, en pensant à toi,
que ta nuit soit calme et douce. dors bien.
Categories:
dors, romance, romantic,
Form: Free verse
SHELLING PEAS
It's summertime in the country,
And the kids buzz around like bees;
But, when that silver tub is placed on the porch,
It's time for shelling peas.
From the smallest to the oldest,
It's something we'd all do;
At first, of course, the little ones,
Didn't have a clue.
They'd watch to see just how it went,
And soon , they'd give a try;
Then look amazed as fingers stained,
As though dipped in purple dye.
When we'd first get started,
It seemed an insurmountable chore;
There looked like half a million peas,
Or maybe even more.
But, after we all got the flow,
We'd turn it into fun;
We'd have a race to see just who
Would be the first one done.
We'd each one have our own bowl,
and a paper sack;
We's slip our fingers through the hull,
Then throw it empty back.
At last, when all the shells lay empty,
And a tub of peas was done;
We'd let the grownups take the haul,
Then look for some new fun.
Copyright 2008 Patricia Neely-Dors
from Reflections of a Mississippi Magnolia -A Life in Poems
#southern #southernlife #southernpoems #southernfoodpoems #countrylife #shellingpeas
Categories:
dors, culture, food,
Form: Rhyme