Long Delia Poems
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"Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly.
They take their time and wander on this
their only chance to soar.”
_by Delia Owens
Like golden leaves, we live our Autumn days-
cling to the limbs and branches of our life.
Enjoying still, the end of Summer's blaze
while living in the bliss of all that's rife.
When comes the time for Autumn's final day;
release, we must- accept next Winter's stage.
Before we fall, we fly and dance away
to frolic in life's air, deterring age.
We fly to places never seen before
and land on surfaces protected well-
then sore again- discover and explore.
As winds uplift- our fears of Winter, quell.
Yet, Winter brings a beauty all its own-
The time to glisten in fresh snow delight.
When we, as leaves, no longer can be blown-
rebirth in Spring will end dark Winter's night.
When she entered the French tea house, we all fell in line.
Everything about her was elegant, she was amazing and refined.
The embroidered frogs on her hand-designed jacket, the latest style.
She outclassed the queen of society, Cam Collie by at least a mile.
I could see Cam Collie was angry by flash of her dark brown eyes.
Delicate, daring, deliberately dashing Dalmatian was such a surprise!
At her neck was a beautiful Swedish hand-embroidered ruffle of lace.
Cam so jealous and green, I wished I could see her angry face.
Dame Dalmatian of Dorcanshire my friend Delia whispered in delight.
Had heard of her beauty, now knew the rumors were sound and right
She was sporting the ultimate creation on her unobvious in the air head.
Hat with striped ribbons, puffed balls, netting; could wake up the dead.
Whispers around tea house as majestic female sat, I might mention.
Put up pinky paw, and was served by two who fought over her attention.
D.D. was majestic, elegant, refined, lady-like and seemed unaware.
Cam Collie gave her the meanest look, a jealous woman-dog stare.
“Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly. They take their time and wander on this, their only chance to soar.” Owens, Delia. Where the Crawdads Sing, Chapter 17: “Crossing the Threshold” (p. 124).
Sheltered within my mother’s caring limbs
Through spring, summer, and autumn
I felt secure all through the changing seasons
Happy I was with my siblings
Playing, giggling, and whispering
But when I watch birds flying in the air
And the blue of the sky peeking through clouds
Instinctively I long to fly aloft
Into the enormity of a realm with no boundaries
I don’t know why I feel sometimes
Trapped in a jungle, so stuck and stranded
Pinned down in an awful fixation
Then I hunger to be a bird, spread my wings,
And ride upon the wind to join in an odyssey
Once when I announced my desire to my mother,
She said, “you are now mature enough
To free yourself from my sheltering clasp, so, I let you go”
Thus, from my caged existence, here I go
Slipping away from the cords that bind
Swaying and dancing on silvered wings
Jan.4.2023
~ Placed Second~
Feel Free Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Sara Kendrick
in 1122 I’ll fall to the ground for you
princess O princess of rosemary dew
you know it takes two
to tango fandango
Delia – heartbound; foundling born tired
forsaken vixen of dying light
a submarine ghost
a rose dale long closed
infidel lost little girl still admired
her royal affairs of turquoise red
flew into the newborn on a death bed
into the rabbit hole of paranoia
that’s chimerical, that’s flamboyant
how easy can dreams come to an end
it’s noontide of deathless urban decay
in a separation station of her heyday
Delia’s timorous, cold like iron
living the fate of Sharon Tate
feeling redundant, Delia is
a scarecrow of the nameless river
her russet hair like abbatoir cleaver
it’s been a folly,
infamy,
end of me
end of a saint, soon-to-be sinner
she was the girl that was ill
Delia of the lavender hill
travelling light year by light year
Delia of the metasphere
“Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly. They take their time and wander on this, their only chance to soar.” Owens, Delia.
Its solemn swaying into this world isn't a fall,
From the ever-season-shifting earth, it's a call;
Yearning, seeking, searching for liberty within,
Cut from the umbilical code of fear; to win;
Flying, floating, freezing, fizzing, fleeing, freeing,
To go beyond settled foundations, far-seeing...!
The autumn leaf though happy with the gaudy ground,
Does it stay on, as a household slave, freedom bound?
Crawling, creeping, moving, merrying, flying far;
Movement, like the time, the leaf says, has no time bar;
Sometimes slow; sometimes fast; sometimes in mild tempo,
Often, it moves in breeze-race-bustle-like fair flow...!
Does the autumn leaf feel anger against the tree,
That cut it from his sap-filled trunk and let it flee?
Is it disgusted at the grim weather around,
Or the zeitgeist, for his existence, not so sound?
Does it feel frightened of the thistly bristly thorns,
That would pierce its heart and would yearn to hear its mourns...?
The leaf has made the act of flying its mission,
To link with leaves of the same vision ignition;
Flying beyond all feelings of joy and sadness,
Puzzles and riddles and reach zeniths of gladness;
As it knows this would be the only given chance,
Before it reaches its psycho-physical trance...!
Isn't an autumn leaf like a thirsty human soul,
That has taken its flight from the absolute whole?
Moving, merging, shifting, stirring midst silent stroll,
Comprehending incomprehensible bliss pole!
Pushed, pulled, torn, flown, thrown into many a chuckhole,
Attains, ultimately, its unending sole goal...!
23 December 2022
Feel Free Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sara Kendrick
Rhymes Checked in Rhyme Zone
Syllable Checked in How Many Syllables
“Autumn leaves don't fall, they fly. They take their time and wander on this their only chance to soar.”
Quote By: Delia Owens, Where the Crawdads Sing
Crisp swift wind whistle clear, autumn leaves fly
Good-bye, how they are heard with a faint smile.
Fiery pinwheels spinning and scatter high,
Crisp swift wind whistle clear, autumn leaves fly.
Place for the Mockingbird's nest, for a while,
Their song so wistful they take to the sky.
Good-bye, how they are heard with a faint smile
Crisp swift wind whistle clear, autumn leaves fly.
1/4/2023
7. “Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly. They take their time and wander on this, their only chance to soar.” Owens, Delia. Where the Crawdads Sing, Chapter 17: “Crossing the Threshold” (p. 124). The author is "Delia Owens"
Feel Free Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sara Kendrick
“Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly. They take their time and wander on this, their only chance to soar.” Owens, Delia. Where the Crawdads Sing, Chapter 17: “Crossing the Threshold” (p. 124).
Dressed up in their September best,
Falling silent, swirling and twirling
Reminiscing on how they’ve been blessed
By the God who created them
With all their vibrancy and quiet dreams
Sinking to the earth amid a hodgepodge
Colors in brilliant flames, awakening
Autumn with inspiring themes, coming
Alive like the moon and the starlight,
Glowing like a blaze of whirling insights
Darkening the past, whispering a caress
Through the gentle night, kissed
By the breathless hopes of a long-ago who breathes
Kindness, brilliant peace like the sunset
Echoing beauty throughout the twilight fantasies
Restoring grace to the promises, the faith
Abiding in the spirit of those who know
This October will bring more joy and more peace
Than any memory, any imagining – wishes
Thriving on the prayers like psalms in the wind
Welcoming the rich sighs of those who believe
This is the autumn’s ambition, to bring to us
A gathering of grief salted with intimacy,
Wonders so complete they feel like freedom
An album of lyrics, poetry fading into the symphony…
Autumn glory – beautiful anthology of truth
A compilation laced with inspiration, the muse
That relies on free will, shimmering solitude
Gratitude and pleasure, blended, mixed together
With the curiosities of life – completely satisfied
In all the beauty fading into the quiet silhouettes
Free feelings, relieved by time and bringing
Delight into the heart of those who remember
This is the way of the morning, the sun and the moon
All who remember to listen to the silence of Autumn’s song,
The enduring stillness, serenity roaring through the twists
And turns of the melody that this voice of Autumn hums
Feel Free Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sara Kendrick
Used Quote Number: 7. “Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly. They take their time and wander on this, their only chance to soar.” Owens, Delia. Where the Crawdads Sing, Chapter 17: “Crossing the Threshold” (p. 124).
Date Written: December 23, 2022
"When your down and out you need some Joe Bonamassa."
Quote by _ Constance
His music is raunchy and moody, his voice raspy yet smooth. If I close my
eyes I am in a rundown bar in the middle of nowhere down and out on luck.
His name is Joe Leonard Bonamassa, an American born blues rock guitarist, singer and songwriter. Born in 1977, he grew up in Utica, New York, USA.
His parents Len and Delia were avid blues music fans and owned a music
store and this is where Joe got his love for guitars. He started playing guitar
at four years old. At twelve he was playing with B.B. King and has played
with many notable artists. He has fifteen solo albums, and eleven of them
have reached No.1 on the Billboard Blues Chart. He has been nominated for
three Grammy Awards. He has his own record label called Keeping Blues
Alive Records where he supports blues musicians and their music.
Something interesting about Joe is his vast collection of guitars and amps,
four hundred or more. Most are vintage. He has been buying them all his
life. A room in his home is called the Bona-seum ! He loves his Fender
Telecaster that he nicknamed Bludgeon. But, there is another rare and
valuable guitar that he uses in concerts, a 1958 Gibson, Flying V, he calls
Amos after the original owner Amos Arthur. I love this man, his music, his
message. He can play the blues for me anytime. He keeps his private life
private, I like that about him !
random lyrics from
Mind's Eye
Joe Bonamassa
help I'm going down
need someone
to slow the spiral down
reach up, dig deeper
I'm haunted by memories
you can'nt see
_____________________
May 07, 2023
Poetry/Bio/Joe Bonamassa - Blues Guitarist
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1545-662-07
All Rights Reservered, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere contest, Joe Bonamassa Inspiration
sponsor, Robert James Liquori, Judged 05/07/2023
First Place
7. “Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly. They take their time and wander on this, their only chance to soar.” Owens, Delia. Where the Crawdads Sing, Chapter 17: “Crossing the Threshold” (p. 124).
In Spring we are svelte and supple….youthful,
Summer brings our exuberant spirit to the forefront,
we dance, we waltz, we murmur our breathtaking
stories to each other!
Autumn tiptoes soon like a coy, veiled bride,
making us shiver with intriguing anticipation!
our colours turn so stunningly beautiful
we feel an ecstasy marvelling at our own lustre…
orange, scarlet, amber, tangerine!
oh my, fiery red hues envelop our sheen!
our prosaic existence fleets away,
we get intoxicated in a riot of colours!
begin to float in a sea of euphoria!
We float, we flutter.. we wander..
twirling, swirling, whirling in the air,
swooshing around the tranquil trees!
This is our only chance to soar above
our humble lives…we are not the prettiest flowers,
but we create a decoupage of kaleidoscopic
beauty, incomparable on its own!
"Feel Free" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Sara Kendrick
Quote 7 Used
20 lines
“Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly. They take their time and wander on this, their only chance to soar.” ~ Delia Owens
When I was born, I clung to my mother,
A little light green being,
God made me so unlike any other,
I flap flutter unmoving,
Thousands of my brothers and sisters live
With me and my mom, all green,
Dancing and swaying with the breeze active,
We rustle, bustle umpteen,
During Autumn, my colour becomes red,
And I know my end is near,
Away from mom's clasp, I will soon be dead,
There's only one thing to cheer,
Now I can go where the wind wishes me,
I will try out my new wings,
All my life passed by, content on a tree,
Now I can explore few things,
Happy, I soar, away from my mom's shade,
Journeying on a new quest,
Fly and glide over the grass and the glade,
Floating, I find final rest.
2nd January 2023