"...hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies..."- Andy Dufresne, Shawshank Redemption
Immortal hope, flowing like spring,
in dusk and dawn, its chime will ring;
Like amber glow, its shine will flow,
against the storm, against the snow;
And in the end of a glorious fight,
there is a light that shines so bright.
May 4, 2023
Bite Size Contest No 63 Poetry Contest (2nd place)
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
one man comments... one man's words.. does he know how others heard..
soul afire... soul aglow.. a true man from head to toe .. it comes from creation... it comes from within .. in some its weak.. but its strong in him .. to see with unclouded sight .. in both the day and the night .. the season changes in the great outdoors... freedom.. for all; few emotional wars.. so dance and sing .. shout out from the heights.. happy spring to all.. we weathered this fright ~ Louis Dufresne March 20th 2019
window gazing day and night .. searching for that perfect light .. it comes from god from on up high in the sky ..
reflected in that morning light .. i see my soul in a different light .. what come from within it comes from him even in the winter blight ..
so praise the morning.. the song of the birds.. the voice of the children with there innocent wise words.. a smile from a woman that reflects her love .. shining bright both day and night.. and when i'm alone again i'll listen to my heart in the quiet , in the dark.. and ill sigh and smile against the spite of the weary world~ Louis Dufresne march20th 2019
Morning Come.
Swirling, cinnamon peppered, neapolitan skies,
beckon like candy to my famished searching eyes.
Western honey colored rays
burning through shades of grays,
can’t penetrate the stacks of Nimbus blacks,
but quick crackling shards of blinding , silver slivers,
pierce that formidable canopy as Sun’s pride withers.
The night and storm has won.
Morning, come.
composed by
Robert A. Dufresne
Vittles
Well what we got for breakfast, big piece of apple pie? maybe some chicken but I think that’s gone by.
Maybe have some oatmeal, but I sure do hate that stuff, depends on how I feel or if I’m hungry enough.
Or how ‘bout grits with spam and eggs or fried up chicken legs,
and we’ll top it with the bottom of the keg, slurp up them dregs.
For desert maybe suck on some skittles,
and thank the cook for these here vittles.
Robert A. Dufresne
Outside convenes a caucus of noisy crows,
through my window I observe their convention,
an impressive display but no one really knows
their chaotic cacophonic intention.
Landing on the lawn, and taking to the trees
Seemingly argumentative and yelling.
A skitterry squirrel takes note and flees,
taking refuge in his knothole dwelling.
The clamorous cawing is strangely staccato,
Shattering the prior, peaceful dawn.
All at once in a flash of feathers, they all go,
To implement their plans, they must move on.
Written by Robert A. Dufresne
Ode to Joyce J.
Would that I could write to her a magical verse
that she would enjoy for just an inkling of the spell
cast in the joy wherein I myself immerse,
when I drink in the drafts from her literary well.
Her poems ripple like flowers in the breeze,
cascading lovely and wild as you please,
avalanching down the hills around the trees
of life’s pain, reality and turbulent seas.
From As time goes on and the Twilight,
The Garden rose and Blackberry wild,
The folds of your Mama’s Apron
And your Vows to the lovely Christ child.
For these and so much more of your lovely self
you’ve shared with us ,
Thank you Joyce and God bless you forever.
Robert A. Dufresne
PUZZLES OF LEAVES
The hillside canopies of seemingly cascading skeleton trees,
bare their boney branches that once clung to myriad puzzles of leaves.
Each shimmering fall leaf
a vividly colored flame,
now a fallen burnt out brief
spent for its time of fame,
leaving their once possessive bare bone branches
to cold gently falling avalanches.
This hillside of sleeping skeleton trees
now savoring the solace of His will done,
and humbly bowed down on their bony knees,
await the assured joy of His Spring to come.
Written by
Robert A.Dufresne 11/3/16
No body wants to hear it,
See it, feel it or be near it.
Even the picture of an aborted fetus;
Where would that reality lead us?
But what if we saw it every day?
Those horrors our babies must pay…
so convenience, lust and greed can survive.
Could we watch these babies filleted alive?
Or …would we think ourselves as humanely magnificent,
If instead, we poisoned them with an abortifacient?
Nobody wants to hear it
See it feel it or be near it,
Even the picture of an aborted little person
causes our anxiety to worsen.
Oh horrors! The shame of it all!
Who put that picture on the wall?
Who had the audacity to open that door?!..
to factually show me what I’m voting for!
Their blood on my ballot is my voice!
Don’t they know it’s a woman’s choice?!
Others of us say, “Take that picture down. Be nice.
Being nice and kind to all will suffice."
But this fall in the privacy of the voting booth,
These same nice folks will get real long in the tooth.
We will pretend our “choice” ballot doesn’t matter,
causing a baby’s blood to splatter….
Then go home and act real nice,
After all … won’t that suffice?
written by
Robert A. Dufresne
Sept 2, 2012
Silly baby! Moving away from that surgical probe
held by that doctor sporting a hypocritical oath!
As if you don’t want to get killed or something…
Don’t you know that it’s our choice?
Silly babies!
Thinking your Moms or Dads would protect you !
Silly, silly babies!
Did you actually come here thinking we were civilized?
your parents actually paid the doctor!
No little one, not civilized, demoralized.
Silly, silly baby!
Dedicated to our true minority unloved friends
Each of whom we will never get the chance to meet
on this earth because our tax money is used to kill them
while the "choice" to kill them reigns supreme.
-Robert A. Dufresne
. Ka--Rack !
The bat splintered.
The excited crowd roared!
“Strike Two!” The tense Ump blared hoarsely.
Coach screamed, “Bases loaded, two outs! Two strikes!
Top of the ninth, down by three, Joe!
Blast it outa the park!!”
The pitch burned in!
KA--RACK !!!
5/30/12
written by
Robert A Dufresne
for Nette's contest
"Sound of Emotion"
THEN ON
To the end of their lives
these Soldiers fought,
to protect their loved ones
from the axis thoughts.
Past these very graves,
the trail leads on.
It guides their comrades
to the attack at dawn.
As each buddy passes by,
he stops, bows his head
and says a prayer..
Then on …to do his share.
Written by Rene F. Dufresne 1917-1998
Corporal in WW2
Circa 1943
This poem was recently found by my sister in an old trunk and was
written by our Father Rene F. Dufresne while serving in the
armed forces in the front lines During WW2. He always had a poetic
bent but never had the time to develop it.
God bless his soul
and may he rest in peace.
-Robert A. Dufresne.
It is so difficult to measure,
any metaphysical treasure.
One can only glean,
Its riches in stream,
By absorbing it at one’s leisure.
I’m speaking of poetry that hovers,
Levitating between it’s covers,
just waiting to be read,
nothing left to be said,
Literature for life and lovers.
Tribute to Elizabeth Wesley’s
new book …
“Polished Stones”
Author House publications.
It has been a long, long time since I have read anything that
has arrested my attention long enough for me to stop and smell
the roses as has this book "Polished Stones" by Elizabeth Wesley.
Thank you Elizabeth.
tribute written by
Robert A. Dufresne
3/08/2012
Young child full of hope and dreams,
volcanic personality laced with possibility,
charming but devious with schemes,
young Eunuch, powerful yet lacking stability.
Named after the god Janus hence January.
Having two faces, one facing the future,
one facing last year’s gory mortuary.
Favorite flower: a carnation to nurture.
A fickle young fellow indeed,
star of the time and space show,
riding a happy go lucky steed.
All dressed up but ..where to go?
Sporting a favorite garnet gem,
enjoying the groupies and fanfare,
tripping over last year’s hem.
History is the map, but will he care?
Janus was old Roman god (two faces) referred to as "spirit of the opening".
January flower carnation: Gem; Garnet
for:
Personification of January contest sponsored by Nette Onclaud
written by Robert A. Dufresne
12/31/2011
Heck, never was much of a one fer romance,
Mostly shy ‘round a lady,
Never learnt how to proper dance,
couldn’t do it if’n ya paid me.
Course er’er times I got all likkered up
And jumped and kicked ‘till ah coon’t no more,
But Bobby Joe surprised me when she puckered up..
Ah got up the nerve to kiss ‘er and fell on the floor.
Reckon one day I’ll git me a dancin’ lesson,
Get gussied up and ride ole Hoss to the barn dance,
But I’ll still be scairt I’m a guessin’
Tho I’ll be wearin’ smellum and ma new overall pants.
Thet thar ah remember was what ah was a thinkin
when ah was a barely sebenteen
Now fifty years later seems in a eye blinkin’
And yep .. Ah done found ma queen.
Twas aft ah come out the Navy
When ah had a family on my mind,
Sure ’nuff found a special lady
But don’t y’all never mind….
Thet thar’s a story for nuther time.
dec 17-2011 part of Ike and Jane series
written by Robert A. Dufresne
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