Long Ducks Poems
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Anna had been sent to school in Paris France,
she was not feeling great about leaving her friends;
but Paris was such a beautiful city to behold,
and soon she had found a new group of pals.
She did miss home very much and felt like crying,
that is until she met Etienne, oh, he was sweet;
so handsome and so sexy with his wavy long dark hair,
Anna, dreamt of running her fingers through it.
When Etienne spoke she would watch his lips,
oh, she longed to kiss him but they were not there;
until one evening at a party in a place with gardens,
he asked her to go for a walk and she said yes.
The garden was lush and green with flowers dripping,
with a pond where white swans and ducks drifted;
they came upon a bench and sat together talking,
until, they were both getting aroused.
Etienne, whispered in her ear- kiss me Anna, please;
and this is what she had been waiting for;
she stroked his beautiful hair holding it in her hands,
and placed her lips on his, in a gentle kiss.
Etienne, whispered again, open your mouth Anna,
and when she did he slid his tongue inside;
swirling it around and leaving her wanting more,
and she felt the need to do the same to him.
The kiss left them breathless and full of passion,
oh Etienne what kind of a kiss is this I wonder;
this, he murmurs into her hair is a French Kiss,
she sighs- I am liking Paris more each day !
_____________________
August 27, 2021
Poetry/Verse/Anna and The French Kiss
Copyright Protected, ID 08-1384-777-27
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the contest, Anna and the French Kiss
sponsor, Mystic Rose Rose, Judged 09/11/2021
First Place
When I was just a little girl unaware of life,
Father would take me to the park with him;
I loved the pond and the sweet ducks within,
Mother, father and their babies full of trust.
The ducks like me knew nothing of corruption,
Like me they were a symbol of true innocence;
The ugliness of the world could not touch us,
In our naivete we just floated along with life.
We were sinless with no knowledge of being hurt,
It was a beautiful day and we knew only that;
Oh to go back to those days of pure innocence,
Where death had not touched my soul as yet.
And ducks only knew they liked the pond,
They did not know that their days were few;
We heard some boys came and killed them,
Father told me the world was sometimes bad.
I knew nothing in this age of innocence,
I had no knowledge, no understanding yet;
Oh but that would come to this lamb of God,
Yes the years have taken my instincts of trust.
Inside I am still that little girl at the pond,
I love to watch nature in all its beauty;
But my innocence is shattered, and I see reality,
Ugliness in the world has no limit it seems.
Dear God, is there anything more innocent,
Than the children and all the helpless animals;
On the news every day the children are suffering,
And I weep for the slaughter of the guiltless.
And the killers protest their innocence.
_______________________
August 17, 2015
Poetry/Verse/"And I Weep For The Innocent"
Copyright Protected, ID 15-700-464-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym
Written for the contest, The Instincts Of Innocence
sponsor, Justin Bordner
Honorable Mention
Family.
This life anew was not my plan,
one of a single dad.
To have to save them from their mom
took everything I had.
A lost lone pilot in a storm
This new life had begun
This wide-eyed squadron mine to lead
two daughters and two sons
Weary faces, eyes full of hope,
my orders tough but clear
A life-long commitment of love
never measured in years
Buckled in tight, safe and secure,
their hearts now free to soar.
"Live your childhoods, I've got you now,"
for what's a father for?
To listen, care, and to be there
when turbulence arived.
Often banking into the wind
just to keep them alive.
Struggles came via various veins,
not much could be done.
We faced them like a family
for all as all for one.
No one could straff the love we shared.
No one would treat them mean.
If e'er another dared to try,
they're not long for the scene.
Triumphs grew as failings grew few,
their confidence did rise.
Trauma faded into the past
Their futures open skies.
They earned my trust, respect, and praise
With honor grace and grit
I taught them how to fly one day.
To own their lifes cockpit
Watching them grow, these lessons in tow.
The honor of my life
Each successful, ducks in a row.
My yoke no longer strife.
The family I always wanted.
The one I never had
I knew I'd earned it when they said,
"We've got you now dad."
trees have lost their Autumn colors
yet the winding path I walk is still in beautiful decay
a pond I pass mirrors a still azure sky above
and the cold water reflects ducks floating
the days are shorter and soon the ducks will fly away
but today they glide peacefully side by side
___________________
October 31, 2021
Poetry/Free Verse/gliding peacefully
Copyright Protected, ID 10-1401-886-31
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Bite Size #25
sponsor, Line Gauthier, Judged 11/07/2021
Submitted to the Standard contest, Strand No 1042
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 12/29/2021
Do you like to see the girl singing
Come with me in the swing
Calling us the happy spring
Seated in the fragrantly blooming
Flowers in the cool morning
The falls sparklingly bubbling
The breeze soothingly cuddling
The rivers gurgling and brimming
The blue and orange sky dreaming
The green parks are beaming
And above everything
You my hands holding
On the path leading
Us to where nature is painting
That the birds are looking
At the colours enchanting
While to each other chirping
As if they are saying
What a picture mesmerizing
All this colourful talking
Do you know who is listening
The sunshine while knitting
The designs with the falling
Shadow that is fast moving
We meet the playful ducks swimming
In the ponds with the rippling ring
My grandpa smilingly walking
On the road that is singing
The songs of ever advancing
Never turning back and looking
At the dust it was leaving
Any good and enduring thing
That to others we can bring
Let's do it now without delaying
The chance again may not be coming
For time has always been drifting
The spring is very short living
This hand in hand together walking
What a journey exciting
Your smell my shirt is clinging
My fingers your poetry is painting
As long as we enjoy the together treading
Let's keep on travelling
When the dew starts descending
We will be into the star watching
_______________________
March 19, 2018
Spring Fling Zing Thing King (or Queen) - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Michael Vacek
I will look to times no more,
to this girl of eleven;
to the old house on the perfect street,
I loved it there, we loved it,
the worn wood floors,
the big olden kitchen,
the lovely flowers mom grew outside,
I will never forget the trees, the drooping green;
the pond where ducks drifted,
feeding the squirrels nuts.
But, one night fire took our home,
we were out of town visiting;
returning to this empty shell destroyed,
gone my dolls, my teddies, my books, my kitten,
gone mom's photos, our everything.
We stood in shock together on the street weeping,
neighbours comforting us;
the truth sinking into our souls,
our wounds of loss open wide, bleeding,
our grief of my sisters not long gone demise fresh.
Mom held her precious new born boy tight,
holding me by her side, oh how I cried !
Thinking how much more God ?
The missing figure
The familiar figure I was dressing didn't sit
in the chair, at the shop, I had hired ready
for the funeral, when I after lunch walked
to the shop to get him dressed
I had bought hair in a gift shop, the type
many use and call it angel hair, white
and smooth and easy to glue on
I, on my way through the small park, had
noticed the man who spoke English with
He had a slight Liverpool accent, although
he was Portuguese, looked another way
when seeing me, that is, he looked at
the ducks in the park's pond.
Unsure of what to do, I sat down in the chair
the figure had sat on a dentist's chair
The closed shop must have belonged
to a former teeth practitioner.
In the large mirror opposite the chair
I saw myself, put the angle hair on my head
and saw the missing figure.
I write upon nature's birds, wild backyard songbirds.
It is a pleasure to feed them year-round,
and seeing them at my feeders,
their vibrant colors shine.
Cardinals, blue jays and hummingbirds steal the show,
entertaining with their sweet cheerful songs.
Fresh nectar awaits hummingbirds, it won't be long,
can't wait to see their tiny feathers glow.
Even though it's for a short time
to watch the small speeders
with their helicopter wings making buzzing sounds.
Seeing them brings me pleasure beyond words.
Canadian geese squawking in their v shaped herd.
Flying near the river where ducks abound,
busy quacking amongst peepers,
as owl hoots heard from pines.
I love to watch and identify birds I know
and learn new ones the feeders bring along.
2/2/21
Contest: My Invented Form - I Write Upon
Sponsor: Constance LaFrance
Chaos and riots
Epidemics and wars
Confusion like tornado hurricane
Confinement, speechless, quiet, calm, rest and unspoken words
However people are drowned in the sounds of nature
Rattle of the rain
Whizzing of the wind
Rustling of the leaves
Wheedling of the birds
Chirping of the crickets
Echoing in the caves, jungles and mountains
Roaring of the sea
Murmuring of the stream
Buzzing of the bees
Hissing of the snake
Quacking of the ducks
Mooing of the cows
Woofing of the dogs
Groaning of the sick
Wheezing of the lungs
Humming of a lullaby
Grumbling of the oldies
Mourning of the dead
Sighing of the loser
Applause of the winner
Any other voices may be drowned
During this political, economic and epidemic crisis
Stay speechless ,calm and cool
As the ushering in of the Chinese New Year
Looking forward to a better year
Only melodies but no blasting or booming
Maybe some sounds buried in the wind
That's the voice of your heart
Stop violation, politicking, trafficking and hegemony
As the world
Is a part of everybody's legacy in a will
Although all along the world is speechless and unspoken
I pricked my ears to follow the sound,
As did my son and our puppy hound,
delight of violin in full tune,
Played to setting sun and rising moon!
Winter evening was well underway,
Christmas carol singers in full sway,
Violin was playing the church psalms,
And Beethoven,Elgar, Berg and Brahms.
Mystery player hidden from view,
Three ardent followers, wish he knew,
Our quest to trace the source was in vain,
The flow of music was unrestrained!
A bright full moon but it was still dark,
couple in romance strolling the park,
sound of violin has come to stop,
If not for ducks one can hear pin drop.
In corner of park a wooden bench,
the maestro was here, was my hunch,
Some tell tale signs of food and foot prints,
Other than these there were no more hints!
We returned next week for an encore,
A Christmas cake with thank you decor,
There was no music but silence all the way.
Near the bench, a note:-
“ RIP, In heaven you shall play!”