Long Coneflowers Poems
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mother taught me about gardens ...
all winter she would ponder ... and make plans
selecting flowers by texture and shape
in a tapestry of colors
like bright sun jewels
and on planting "day" I wore an aquamarine sundress ...
~ we needed hardy flowers
for our changeable climate
and mother taught me to use color artfully ~
but no matter what we did ... by mid summer
the garden was a wild mosaic tangle
of tangerine nasturtium and lemon marigold
along with lilac forget-me-nots
and a mix of lavender and crimson snapdragons
we had lost all control ...
~ oh, we had painted daisies in saffron
and watermelon pink
and trusting coneflowers in all hues ~
now, my garden is much smaller
yet I still have a vibrant array of flowers
a display of changing colors all summer long
thrusting, cascading, and tumbling
I have climbing wallflowers in chartreuse
every view is painted ... in hues
like watercolors saturated with sun
oh, I love the coral bells ... cascading from baskets
~ let there be color and there is ... like magic
... colorful flowers dance in the breeze
____________________
April 5, 2021
Poetry/Free Verse/let there be color
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1344-147-05
All rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest Changing Colors
sponsor, Emile Pinet, Judged 04/19/2021
First Place
Walking along a path through forest’s green,
a clear running stream where I can fish.
A porch swing to sit and watch nature’s scene,
that is the heart of my Missouri wish.
Strolling through a tinted meadow at dawn,
the smell of wildflowers tickling my nose.
Black-eyed Susan, Blue Stem, Prairie Clover,
bright Coneflowers, Columbines, and Primrose.
Filling my lungs with the syrup of life,
spying the sun glinting between swaying leaves.
Hearing the melody of a robin’s song,
as it drifts upon a soft summer’s breeze.
Feel the glory of a morning’s sunrise,
as it fills the sky with a promised day.
Wonder at the beauty of sunset’s glow,
sleep sound and dream as worries drift away.
Stand in silence atop a grassy hill,
soaking in all that nature has to give.
Gaze across the beauty of God’s workshop,
knowing this is the Missouri way to live.
I will turn back the pages of time
to mom and to when I was a little girl
mom would fill my pool and in I jumped
she called me pixie and I giggled
then, she turned to her garden
trimming black-eyed susan
and white shasta daisies
and I helped too
I had my own tools
and I worked hard
she gave me a small patch in the sunshine
with bright petunias and yellow marigolds
Mom planted coneflowers for the monarchs
I planted columbine for the hummingbirds
and yarrow for bees
oh, I loved the garden
then, mom said we need some rain
so we prayed and waited
and the beautiful rain showers came
gently falling on all the flowers and my columbine
petunias, yellow marigolds, and yarrow grew huge
and some crazy creeping thyme I had planted
this is a treasured memory
in the book of my life
_________________________
March 08, 2022
Poetry/Free Verse/garden memories
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1437-403-08
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, A Brian Strand Libre Vers
sponsor, Brain Strand, Judged 03/11/2022
First Place
I will turn back the pages of time,
to mom and to when I was a little girl;
mom would fill my pool and in I jumped,
she called me pixie and I giggled.
Then, she turned to her garden,
trimming black-eyed susan;
and white shasta daisies,
and I helped too.
I had my own tools,
and I worked hard.
She gave me a small patch in the sunshine,
with bright petunias and yellow marigolds.
Mom planted coneflowers for the monarchs,
I planted columbine for the hummingbirds;
and yarrow for bees,
oh, I loved the garden.
Then, mom said we need some rain,
so we prayed and waited;
and the beautiful rain showers came,
gently falling on all the flowers and my columbine,
petunias, yellow marigolds, and yarrow grew huge;
and some crazy creeping thyme I had planted !
This is a treasured page
in the book of my life.
_________________________
June 20, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/And The Rain Came
Copyright Protected, ID 16-9955-17-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, Sunshine and Showers(old/new)
sponsor, Robert Haigh
Honorable Mention
Rainbow faeries in the sky, painting furiously and fabulously
God’s magic in the hands of the mystics.
His glorious red, representing our life’s blood
after it hits oxygen. Showing nature her full beauty
in the scarlet coneflowers and crisp crimson strawberries.
Flat out showing off in tomatoes.
Rainbow faeries in the sky, hurrying before we catch them.
God’s colors in their nimble hands.
His glorious orange, making us feel optimistic,
throwing a laugh into the rainbow, bringing a sense of play.
Orange, my favorite color, which is shown in
butterflies and marigolds, a sense of whimsy and fun.
Rainbow faeries in the sky, racing toward their favorite color.
The color of the sun, showing their full out yellow, which
gives enthusiasm and joy to the rainbow, softening the
other colors, acting as a beautiful companion, cheering them
all on with an exuberant happy cheer.
Rainbow faeries in the sky, settling down with calming green.
Throwing it in sparingly, as it is already in every meadow,
forest and field. The ultimate color that slows us down, allowing
our breathing to calm us, making us feel nurtured and a part
of nature.
Rainbow faeries gladly adding a touch of blue, the color of
sky and sea, the color that takes our eyes to heaven, and helps
us remember we are here to love each other, showing us compassion and empathy, giving us peace.
IN THE JOY OF THIs MORNING
————————————————————————————————
(For Jim, to explain why
my tears can run down in Joy)
********
In day’s earliest light
(my inner eyes see)
The recitals there, nearly-sky, as
The does lead their Spring-born fawns
Leaping over Glory’s
Far-sprouting wildflower fields…
Finding brown hares fast to follow;
With streaked cats in a chase, swinging their paws at
Bobbing blooms, like
The sweet-scented heather on tossed air
Left by the fleet fox — not on a hunt, but
On a spree of joy —
In a breathing-in of a new day’s anointing.
The pure leaps
Into
Being…
And the squirrels, too, very nearly
With the gifting of invisible wings, bounding off
From tree to tree…
While we, the children of God, are left to
Watch —
Incapable of such leaps
(often going on in our suffering, short, shuffled steps)
With our simpler legs:
Designed
for
Kneeling
And preparing to sit in awe
Before God’s heavenly throne; in joy…
To learn in our imagining thoughts, the ways of
The flashings-past beauty of horses, freely
Jumping ever higher, with distinct grace,
Over recurring hurdles,
While carrying bareback all their praises, on to
Canter over clover, and over
Blue coneflowers amidst wild, white daisies, and
All the yellow dandelions on
Through the blessing, reverberating echoes
Of the heartbeats of God —
As they seek to penetrate and fulfill,
Showing our so-created human souls
The way to leap…
How we might — this morning —
Ascend to flight!
————————————————————————————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 5/12/22
ALL
Thanks be to Go
PERENNIAL FLOWERS JUST FOR ME
far below the canopy, the speckled hawk soars —
whoa! he’s hardly in my space but so close.
my toes jam up in my gray Bob’s as I descend
the cracking driveway, and my eyes ascend
toward the clouds, hard to see through the oaks.
my eyes roller-coast back to the pavement
or I jeopardize my life, firsthand knowledge gained
when shoes roll over pebbles and stick debris
quite humbly spurring me to a knee. i reach
my destination. i look at my well dressed yard,
the ground worked hard. the red mulch compliments
our home and the reticent retaining wall
keeps are summertime willow felicitous. — what
i came out to see, the perennial flowers just for me,
a husband’s love. the purple coneflowers and
delicate daisies a simple offering, a favor asked
before his job took him overseas and i visited
the grands. here his little bit of leaven forms
a lump in my grateful heart. my thighs pump
as i climb our renowned hill, ready to give praise,
and enjoying the clumps of hay protecting hibiscus buds,
when the buzz of an invisible bee chases me
the rest of the way. not a fan, i shun the stranger,
slam the door, readily make a beeline to my honey.
“I love the flowers. Nice job!”
The bee he says, gave me a bit of exercise.
Now why’d he have to go and say that.
Men and children have a habit of speaking from the heart,
not always what you want to hear,
but the sweet flowers in my eyes dance for a while
and i love that man.
8/3/2019
The fragrance of the roses preceded her into my kitchen
There were lilies, zinnias, coneflowers, a sunflower too
Baby’s breath added a great deal of delight to the bouquet
I felt instantly uplifted, although had been quite blue.
My C-2 is broken, which means my neck of course.
I am lying around feeling sorry for myself, but not anymore.
My feelings have been instantly transformed.
The second my thoughtful neighbor walked into my door.
How did you know? I asked her. I had not advertised my break.
The entire neighborhood knows, she reassured me, thanks to Slim.
We all want to help you, so shifts we are going to take.
No words were good enough to thank them.
Flowers
By Miracle Man
11/28/2018
Purple Coneflowers
Life is a bouquet teeming with flowers,
That many never stop to smell each day.
Indian Blankets or a bed of Coneflowers
They bring a smile and beautify our way.
In differing stages, a bud vase may hold,
Flowers cut to adorn some loved one’s table;
Whether Red Roses or a single Marigold,
God has ordered each its own timetable.
The cut Rose bud that had so much to offer,
Yet no one will ever behold its full bloom.
Likewise are those apprehensive of the scoffer,
Who withdraws to quiet corner of a room?
"I must have flowers, always, always ..."
-Monet-
________________________
mother taught me about gardens ...
all winter she would ponder ... and make plans
selecting flowers by texture and shape
in a tapestry of colors
like bright sun jewels
and on planting "day" I wore an aquamarine sundress ...
~ we needed hardy flowers
for our changeable climate
and mother taught me to use color artfully ~
but no matter what we did ... by mid summer
the garden was a wild mosaic tangle
of tangerine nasturtium and lemon marigold
along with lilac forget-me-nots
and a mix of lavender and crimson snapdragons
we had lost all control ...
~ oh, we had painted daisies in saffron
and watermelon pink
and trusting coneflowers in all hues ~
now, my garden is much smaller
yet, I still have a vibrant array of flowers
a display of changing colors all summer long
thrusting, cascading, and tumbling
I have climbing wallflowers in chartreuse
every view is painted ... in hues
like watercolors saturated with sun
oh, I love the coral bells ... cascading from baskets
~ let there be color and there is ... like magic
... colorful flowers dance in the breeze ~
_______________________
March 10, 2022 (Repost)
Poetry/Free Verse/watercolor garden
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1437-760-10
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, Garden Inspirations (New/Old)
sponsor, BJ Legro Kelley, Judged 04/20/2022
Second Place