Long Pebbly Poems

I was out one day walking, along the glad sounding shore,
Gathering pretty seashells, and watching the seagulls soar.

To the left were lofty mountains, touching the azure skies,
To the right, sparkling ocean, and ahead the butterflies!

In...

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TRIP TO DREAMLAND

       A vacation trip to calm salient suburb overwhelmed me in childhood. We stayed in in Grand Mom’s house covering large rea with huge garden to face...

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The serpentine and ageless liquid
   mercurial possessed snake
eternally swallowed 
   since the beginning of time
   one unquenchable thirst to gorge and slake
slurping up an icy cold mountainous pebbly shake
...

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Written: October 19, 2023

Poem in the Fragmented Form Created by Poetess: Constance la France

The good work is done by people with jagged, broken edges because those edges cut things and leave an imprint, a design....

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Written: June 24, 2023
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Soft waves embrace the clean seashore.
Caressing the sands we once walked before.
Leaving footprints imprinted on the land,
A memory crafted by nature's loving hand

The shore, a canvas of dreams,
Where sand castles stand tall,...

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My child’s serious eyes targeted me as his prize.
I could see pondering and wondering forming words
for my small child’s mumbling.

“Mommy, Daddy says you’re short”, he spoke.
“People come in all sizes.”
“Will I come in short?” he...

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They couldn’t close the door,
They failed to shut down the world against you,
All the fights, pains, and fears are gone from your wounded heart,
Across the seas and mountains,
Dreams and destinies dangle,
Like a pendulum battling with...

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A mindful mate of mine proceeds on the pebbly path 
as an angel with a mission flies in the skies. 
The childish fullness of his cheeks 
manifests his mettle 
and he is a carefree big...

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Pebbles tumble, 
to the shore, 
my thoughts tumble, 
my heart, 
sore 

My thoughts, 
my very core, 
are like driftwood, 
beaching gently on the shore 
Thes new things, 
what's it all for? 

Rush of noisy white...

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Pebbles tumble, 
to the shore, 
my thoughts tumble, 
my heart, 
sore 

My thoughts, 
my very core, 
are like driftwood, 
beaching gently on the shore 
Thes new things, 
what's it all for? 

Rush of noisy white...

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Cottage by whistling river beautiful, cozy and warm 
Wreathed by Mother Earth in her seasons’ natural charm 

Drenched in rain or covered in blanket of snow
Disappeared in fog or shimmering in morning glow

Bursting with bubbly...

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***Summer's not quiet here yet, but I live in Florida...***




                         ...

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Una or Death, Life : 42, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Una ou la mort, la vie : 42 by T. Wignesan

To love words is to love life itself
As early as when he could speak, he...

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Summertime in Malibu




	Laying on the bed completely naked, 
Watching the moon and drinking my Martini,
	How I wish to have you at this moment, my summertime.
Without change anything except our bodies,
	Our lips, our way of standing...

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The sun was shining brightly
Shall we go to the lake said Mam
I was washed and dressed
Placed in my buggy , all spick and span

Mam dressed my sister
Then herself she had cleansed
Ready for the off now
She...

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The holiday cabin smelled of wet pigeons
but it was lakeside and cheap.

The lake was not popular,
too deep and weedy for swimming,
too shallow for docking boats,
yet it suited our make-do mindsets.

Of course,
we were romantically attached at...

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It was thought the young whale was pregnant
confused as she was and out of her depth.

They waded into the river to help,
floated rubber rafts to buoy her up.
Marine experts posited ways
to keep her breathing in...

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Jump, thump, six graders jump
from stone to pebbly stone.
Chirp chirp the robin flies
Across the sky alone.
Crunch chunch the graveled feet,
Sh. . . shoo, a breathy whisper,
Hard, cold bench for a seat,
Rough wood, perhaps a splinter.
Puh,...

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Pebbly scree slides and crabwalks
inside a dim dunk of fog.

The cragsman should not have climbed,
should have waited for the sky to clear its eyes
but anxious to reach a height that day
he took the Arimathea way.

Beat...

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Hill And Mountain Talk

Copper flowers quarried in the lower tundra
In sculpted form beneath the pebbly footing
Two giant mountains there to quarrel with each other
Who will occupy the lion’s share of space
One mountain insults the other...

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Mary Jo

Mary Jo, where are you now? Dusty bones in a cemetery?
A dashing man drove you through the night, over a bridge
that wasn’t there, into the water, and then you were alone
breathing, through pockets of...

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It was thought she was pregnant
confused as she was
and out of her depth.
They waded into the river to help.
They floated rubber rafts to buoy her up.
Marine experts posited ways 
to keep her breathing in shallow...

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Between fence metal hexagons
Vibrant weed vertical weaves
Leaves poke gaps obstinately
Battle with wire web pattern


Because it can get through, 
will get through, determined
To prosper within challenge 
To reach potential during tough 


Bitten by bug of bad...

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Quick like lighting, she is flown
To a darkness
With waters of murkiness
To a pebbly zone
To her practically unknown,
Nowhere near her a rescuing phone,
To be physically tortured for deeper groans
And psychologically for disquieting moans.

Now, she is mortally...

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A little quiet hill
Sitting very still
With a modest pride
Slanted curve aside.

Every tree's tappered stems
Adorned starry diadems
Glistening dew of morn
The dawn of a day born.

Sweetly they slept
While then there wept
The fallen leaves
To which silence heaves.

The crystal...

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