We know she was born that
blissful July, perhaps sooner. But we never settled
on a time of death, so the tombstone
sits on my nightstand for now
I water daffodils with
black coffee—I want to plant them
next to her grave, where I'll
never visit. It's the least I can do since I
can't visit her, as you'll be there
to caress my cheeks when I weep
and her heart will resume beating—No, I made
a solemn vow to honor her peace, so
You can say your goodbyes before her
last exhale, hold her hands if you will
I'll be there for the send off
and chisel our love into the marble
Louise was the bird caller girl
Started when she was two
An accidental meeting with a cardinal
Then a robin and two bluebirds
Pretty soon wrens and swallows were circling her stroller
What is it with these birds? Asked her governess
Her mother was determined to keep the family secret
Her great-great-great-grandmother had been a bird caller.
Birds of prey, water birds, even hummingbirds sought her out.
They hoped this talent would not come back to their family.
Yet, here it was in the form of little Louise
Louise was surrounded by birds all of her life
She took them to church, to school, and to the library
The librarians used to try to shoo them away
They finally had a special hat cage built for Louise
So, she can come in and read books, without being distracted
It is the best they can do for this automatic bird caller.
Please recall Louise is fictional.
She cannot walk in the park with a dog,
or do somersaults.
She won't be found at Bartholomew Library
reciting poetry.
She is and always will be fictional,
so cannot be so viewed.
Again, I stress she's fictional, completely, completely, for all time,
for already you imagine her with dog
that won't stop barking,
admire her cleverness in Bartholomew's gymnastic class,
or hear her quiet voice
giving poetry something it hasn't had for years.
4/5/2023
Here lies Mary Louise Anne Spencer Deligne
She met her end where two roads align
She couldn’t stop her diesel in time,
Hit an eighteen-wheeler carrying lime
Buried her here, she was in her prime
Written March 19, 2022
Louise has the most exotic doll clothes in the toy chest.
We know she is Meg’s favorite because of her outfits.
Some of us are angry with Louise because of this favoritism.
Some of the prettier dolls are uglier now, and they throw a fit.
Last night Meg created a gorgeous gold bird nest hat for Louise.
We saw it, and many of us were not pleased in the least or at all.
She is more gorgeous than ever, and this is not fair, if you please.
Worse, it made her look svelte, and about six inches more tall.
A rich tapestry of colors light up her name
With hues of lilac and crimson in a soft flame
Whispering of the rich and brilliant praises
Her words have obtained with their phrases
Flowing across the page like a gentle rain
Her nouns and verbs show how they do pain
The hearts of millions who read their delights
Caresses to the spirit who listens with insights
Feeling alive to the dance her words cause
Always awakening feelings to give such pause
Singing with miracles from the angel’s lips
Like glowing poetry left to present their scripts
Heavenly skies filled with stars, moon and charms
Welcoming the senses to be embraced in sweet arms
Sent on the wings of doves who ease the reflections
With visions of hope, happiness and inspiring connections
Louisa May Alcott wrote her heart out in Little Women
Giving us all reasons to believe we’d sing some hymn in
The satisfaction that came from knowing such a story
I doubt she ever knew her tale would bring alive such glory
The night is brimming with lake water fully moon-laden.
Sparkles and dashes of diamonds clutter her surface.
I am delighted at the prettiness of the outlying forest.
Surrounded by beauty that enhances my glorious mood.
We fell in love with temporary aspects of this forest glen.
Inspired to have the lake dug once upon a memory.
She calls me in spring and fall, coaxing me to swim in summer.
I love her, and call her Lake Lady Louise, after my grandma.
Birthed from a place of honesty I had reservations.
Not wanting any of the trees to go but of course they had to.
I mourned these large oaks, pushed into pile by dozers.
Felt a devastation at the progress, fearing it was a mistake.
Beneath the wings of your song, oh Lake Lady Louise,
I am in awe of your cat tails, bullfrogs and minnows.
It is with pure joy that I feel your catfish and bass staring.
Underneath the cover of your diamond encrusted surface.
A circus performer – Louise -
while swinging mid-air by trapeze
missed the bar; it was grim.
What a pity for him!
He had the misfortune to sneeze!
Now for Brian Strand's the 'ALL YOURS(May 21)' Poetry Contest
Here is a tale of a lady named Louise
Who had an addiction to all types of cheese
First thing in the morning it was cheese on toast
Didn't matter what kind but she liked cheddar the most
A morning at work lunch time at three
Some brie cheese sandwiches naturally
The day for Louise finished at eight
The macaroni cheese for tea would be delicious and great
So you will see cheese and Louise go hand in hand
Why should anyone have ham Louise could not understand
She was such a prim and proper wife.
When asked to cut the cheese, she'd ask her spouse to, please
because she did not like to use a knife.
But sometimes she would sneeze.
She could not help it then; she'd cut the cheese!
At such time, we'd be holding our noses.
It's for sure we were not smelling roses,
and we all would cry out, "Geez, Louise!"
Nov. 13, 2018 for Barry Stebbings' Write A Poem About Cheese Poetry Contest
Aretha Louise Franklin
Labeled "The Queen Of Soul"
She was expressive in her music
There was a story waiting to be told
Her voice was fierce and powerful
The sound was succinct and sharp
She was one to open up your mind
And give light to those stuck in the dark
Uplifting and exhilarating
Willing to enhance one's vision
Embracing love, life, freedom, and happiness
And carrying out her mission
When in a state of sorrow and pain
She still found a way to perservere
Her inner strength was profound
The messages in her songs were clear
At the age of 76
She has sadly passed on
The legacy of Aretha Franklin
Will continue to be heartstrong
Enveloped in a cloud of dust like mist on a lake early morn...Lake Louise.
Louise Myers
1896-1917
They shot the Archduke,
And my eyes closed in disbelief;
They sank the Lusitania,
And my heart palpitated.
My friend, this world reels and tumbles and faints,
Lost in endless crises and disasters;
Aghast at the senseless violence and mayhem.
The War To End War commenced,
As I terminated this futile existence,
With a loud curse and a silent prayer;
This leaping lunge into the death ditch!
Once, I secretly applied lipstick,
Unbeknownst to my firm-minded father,
And joyously kissed myself in the mirror.
Oh Narcissus,
Be my lover now!
For the world reels and stumbles and disintegrates,
And I have made this last leaping lunge,
This hysterical thoughtless leaping lunge,
Down, down into the deep death ditch!
A story this is that most certain will please,
A tale of a girl by the name of Louise,
An unusual child with unusual knees
Who whistled “Too-WEET” and sat in the trees
And spoke to the sparrows and sang with the bees.
When her mother and father cried,
“Where is Louise?”
She simply ignored them and swung in the breeze
Till her parents said, “Oh, what an awful disease,
That our baby Louise must sit in the trees
And speak to the sparrows and sing with the bees!
Louise, Louise…we’re on our knees!
Oh please, please, come down from those trees!”
But little Louise, with a snort and a sneeze,
Tears on her elbows and tears on her knees,
Taunted them like a terrible tease,
Saying “Cross the rivers and cross the seas
But you won’t ever get me out of the trees!”
And so our Louise who sat in the trees
And spoke to the sparrows and sang with the bees
Stayed there till the day (or the night, if you please)
When the birds picked her up, and away on the breeze
Flew the little gray sparrows
With little Louise.
Of the places of wonder, to travel and wander
I would return once again to the chasms of time
Banff National Park is the jewel in the crown
On the rim of the world where pure silence is found
and the edge of a glacier where white peaks have climbed
Where eyes are astonished and cloistered we'll find
a lake, named Louise, ringed with forest and trees.
The beauty is cradled beyond one's belief
Where centuries seep through the cracks in the ice
and monuments melt much faster than light
Enlightened are those who will come to respect
each breath-taking view, every chance to reflect.
Gaunt pines have climbed, on ridges that sigh
with spokes of long fingers that reach to the sky
It seems that their branches are stars we can't find
With reverence, unspoken, while throats swell in pain
In gratitude, for magnitudes of nature's refrain
My breath is unable to shape a weak voice
or rejoice in the miracle mere mortals will find
I will stare out and marvel at the bright early morn
as I hear my heart beating, and my soul is re-born
______________________________________
2/18/16 For "Take A Vacation" Contest
Sponsor: Lin Lane
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