MAID OF ORLÉANS
Poem written for and submitted to “Myth and Memory” Poetry Contest, Vanya Evangeline, sponsor.
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A warrior saint came from the plains of rural France,
a beautiful maiden named Joan, dressed in simple clothes,
not of noble lineage, but of modest beginnings
her faith unmatched.
Shielded by heavenly whispers,
she took up a religious cause~
mounted on horseback, brandishing God’s mighty saber,
she fought for her country in the name of the Lord.
Unscathed from battle she emerged,
waving her banner of courage throughout the land,
but treason and betrayal
would one day bring her untimely end.
Alone she stood in the court of politicians,
falsely accused and forsaken; yet,
in the face of pain, Joan’s faith and resolve
would not be contained, her spirit and fortitude remained.
The humble shepherdess warrior, was bound to a stake
her body consumed by fire, her valor inspirational.
This humble warrior saint, later canonized and martyred,
continues to embolden and enthrall.
Pope Joan and Joan of Arc
Mysterious women
Both known
For their parts
For hundreds of years
Hidden by history
But time would reveal
What some would not let be
Women dressed like men
Having Divine reason
Chosen by God
Each in her season
The Thirteenth and Fourteenth centuries
Is where each lived
Did one know the other
Or was another life lived
Saint Hood and disgrace
Would divide
Their purpose in life
In which the one lied
The other a warrior
Undisguised
Making France what it is
Though a martyr died
History still hides
What men would divide
Why was it disgrace
For a woman in that place
But the two yet different
Are still the same
What they did back then
Has the same name
We now ask the question
Why a Saint and the other a shame
We now look to God
Who has given it a name
Woman, you can stand
On your own two feet
If you had smile to cherish
You wouldn't hurt anything
Not even a husband is needed.
There was a lady named Joan of Arc.
Who, so sadly, was lit by a spark.
It's too bad that she died,
but let's see the bright side.
She magnificently glowed in the dark.
DARBY AND JOAN
I saw a sight this morning I swear to you is true
And I thought I’d put it into verse, the way we poets do.
I have to do it quickly, while it’s still fresh in my mind.
So no time to count the iambs nor to search for the perfect rhyme.
An elderly couple passed by (I think I’ll call them Darby and Joan)
Darby was in a wheelchair and Joan was pushing him home.
And then, to my amusement, she stopped to take a break
And shook her husband’s shoulder to make sure he was awake.
They had a conversation, though I couldn’t hear what was said.
Then Joan climbed into the wheelchair and Darby pushed instead.
Sunday's cold feet
My mind can go out for a journey
It will relate to things I've seen and fill in the gaps how I would if I couldn't see
As I see things I see no good and I see no bad
I need not tax my mind with have or have not
I prefer to struggle as I can not be seen any bit greedy and I was brought up as a hand me down last of a large 7 sibling family and always walked the edge of poverty and a class removed neatly and ugly by the system
Witches won't talk of the souls who run free
Joan of Arc thoroughly trashed and burnt by a church I shall never respect and the deaths of millions because someone won't except other beliefs has made our paradise a special place called hell.
Stories told and answers revealed
Tortured spirits wandering souls seeking spirits who journey to visit loved ones or people who made a mark deep in their soul
They may be blind
They may not have thought or body
But they are no bird in a cage
You will feel their chill silver sliver shiver through your spine
The eyes to stories from the heart the ears hear all calls for help. The mind is only capable of responding just alittle more than enough to keep us surviving
*Image of Letter of Do's & Don'ts by WB.
Writing
"What is life but a succession of preludes to unwritten words . . . "
Quote by_Constance La France
Dear Joan Letter
You said I'm the one yet you're bad in math,
You with someone sent me on a warpath,
Physical brouhaha, caused a bloodbath,
Think twice is a plus in the aftermath,
Prior noted opinions, a steam bath,
Prompts I, some poetic sociopath.
2022 November 18
*3rd Place*
WRITING CHALLENGE - ''V'' Forms
~~Constance La France: 2022 November 23
PSGC & RZ & HMS.
Joan Didion was an accomplished American writer
Wrote “The Year of Magical Thinking”, portrays a true fighter
Her first book -“Run, River”, her last -“Let me tell you what I mean"
Fiction, non-fiction, plays, screenplays, awards ~ much loved writing queen.
02.03.2022
(She was born on December 5, 1934 and passed away on December 23, 2021. In 2005, she won the National Book Award for Nonfiction and was a finalist for both the National Book Critics Circle Award and the Pulitzer Prize for "The Year of Magical Thinking". She later adapted the book into a play, which premiered on Broadway in 2007. In 2013, she was awarded the National Medal of Arts by President Barack Obama. Didion was profiled in the Netflix documentary "The Center Will Not Hold", directed by her nephew Griffin Dunne, in 2017.)
For Michelle Faulkner's "A Celebrity Epitaph" contest
Saint Joan like us, was flesh and bone
to sinfulness and error prone.
Through grace descending from God’s throne
her life revealed she was his own.
Mother in Israel was she
while fostering her flock of three.
No matter what the plight or plea
she ministered to all for free.
As Jesus did, she sowed good seed
in willing hearts, that gave her heed
not just with word, but also deed
she lived her life, by divine creed.
The trees that from those seeds still grow
only eternity will show.
My life is one for sure I know
to her the deepest debt I owe.
Here lies Saint Joan of flesh and bone
for wisdom, tact and caring known
by all to whom kindness was shown
and even by her very own.
Just like saint Joan, one day we’ll die
with nature marred we groan and cry
and ofttimes wish with wings to fly
to a place of rest in the sky.
If life eternal you desire,
ask God your Father to inspire
faith in Christ who bore His ire
to save you from hell’s fearful fire.
Then when Christ comes from death to free
saint Joan who lived to ninety-three,
you too like her would rise with glee
your savior’s face at last to see.
the hundred years war
french joan of arc heard voices
god chose her of course
On a day a number of centuries ago
John Calvin met the great heroine, Joan of Arc,
they both had much indeed in common
in their lives, on God's side, they made their mark
Both were born and came from France
so language was not a problem at all
they had both been mightily used of God
humbly both bowed to obey God's call
John spoke admirably of Joan's bravery
asking did you really hear a voice?
one so audible so clear to be God
oh yes Joan said it was no ordinary noise
Joan spoke of Calvin's work in Geneva
what was it like to see such transformation?
John answered it wasn't me, the spirit of God
it was His work to speak through God's revelation
So much to share can't tell it all now
John and Joan were now real true friends
their great love for Jesus their saviour
who died for their sins for their souls to mend
(I've brought together John Calvin the Swiss reformer(1509-1564) and Joan of Arc who rescued France from English domination. (1412-1431), both French by birth and both mightily used of God. They both lived in different periods of history but thought it would be nice to bring them together and imagine what friends they could be)
Joan of Arc
A fearless warrior who made her mark
By defeating England, the victory clear cut
She also inspired the "bob" haircut
- - -
1-25-19
Leader Clerihew Contest
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
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Joan of Arc, nicknamed The Maid of Orleans, is considered
a heroine of France for her role during the Lancastrian phase
of the Hundred Years’ War and was canonized as a Roman Catholic saint.
She was born to Jacques d’Arc and Isabelle Romee, a peasant family, at Domremy in north-east France.
On May 23, 1430, Joan was captured at Compiegne by the Burgundian faction, which was allied with the English.
She was later handed over to the English and put on trial by the pro-English Bishop of Beauvais Pierre Cauchon on a variety of charges.
After Cauchon declared her guilty, she was burned at the stake on May 30, 1431, dying at about 19 years of age.
All males undone
by the Lady Son
The trumpets blared
her fire
An Earl first came
her wrath unchained
To Charles
her heart aspired
All kingdom come
to face Lady Son
But to hell
their souls were laid
As her legend grew
and from banners flew
The name Joan
—all hearts to pray
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
Joan Baez Rising Star With A Guitar
Joan Baez was great true rising star,
As she sang and played on her guitar;
My heart touch,
So very much;
In majestic music world went very far.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Emf1O8q80SM
Jim Horn
Her last concert.
Written in Iambic Dimeter
Her ways are mine
Yes, I love Joan
Her eyes do shine
Voice low, soft tone
None, she alone
Do I want Jane?
Think I not so
Want she in vain
There is no glow
Can’t be her beau,
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