My mind is on red training wheels
Muse is gone and I’ve got a thrill
In writing about shouting daffodils
Moving around never staying still
Lost in thought a fun place to be
With original parts wonderful dreams
The art of heavy hearts creating
The next Noah’s ark in valley green
And they’d say you’re manic and mad
Why build an ark in valley green grass
They’d pick and jest with jubilant laugh
But time will tell and dispel peach path
mutterings
I see you in dreams,
those inconsequential things,
shaped in busy slumber.
I call to you - with
continual mutterings
- but do you listen?
I enter gates that are rusty and old, worn with age,
This eternal resting place fills my soul with sadness;
The time of year does not help, barren trees hanging low,
Dried up flowers lay forlorn on rows of graves.
I followed a pathway taking me deep into the maze of sorrow,
Many stones difficult to read, erosion and time destroyed;
Some are simple crosses and others pristine granite markers,
I cross over a bridge above a rippling stream.
Dark valleys lay before me and toppled statues rest in peace,
This scene of sadness holds a place in my soul forever;
For among the burial plots, vaults, lays a beloved sad memories,
There is so much love in this forever in this place.
This cemetery is serene and tranquil,
And I still weep . . . .
____________________________
March 21, 2014
Poetry/Verse/Simple Mutterings/Still I Weep
Copyright Protected, ID 14-1003-884-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
a glass butterfly,
with transparent wings,
rests on a wet fern-
oh such lovely things!
___________________________________
February 27, 2017
Poetry/Jueju/Simple Mutterings/Glass Butterfly
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 10029-88-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
It seems like I fell off the map on my life journey,
my path has been twisted and quite ferny;
and beauty is concealed . . .
I have learned to dip and dive in life's battlefield,
but this warrior of fate could use a shield;
and perhaps an attorney !
Fate just keeps throwing me off mountains I climb,
I end up in dangerous places most of the time;
I could use a fate guide . . .
So that over oceans and quicksand I could glide,
and face- fate's devious footballs with pride;
life is often lemons and lime !
Wonder, would I find contentment on easy street,
no, I like this journey, music and beat;
I like catching the football . . .
Standing strong and tall when I hit a stonewall,
so, I will play the game and there is a windfall;
I could be an athlete !
_________________________
March 9, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/Simple Mutterings/Fate
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1002-488-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
The day I found the butterfly in me,
I was changed forever to- delighted.
I found dancing where I could soar carefree,
the butterfly and me are so united, that
we twirl and swirl blissful,
we dip and fold gleeful,
we fly up high cheerful,
optimistic,
aphoristic,
spiritualistic . . .
My dress is gauzy and purple feathery,
with butterfly I am ignited . .
entwined, we are one with wings filigree,
and when we dance I am happy excited.
______________________
February 17, 2017
Poetry/Free Verse/'The Butterfly In Me'
Copyright Protected, ID 17-10001-368-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Writing,
is everything to me! It is my true passion-
MUSE found me, a lonely little girl weeping,
with deep swirling words in my head
and in time, I wrote the words down. My thoughts fell, and
a writer was born in me- the poet here.
Today, my writing has more style- but I still
pour my heart and soul out on white just like that girl, with
words that twirl and whirl in the corridors of my head
until they must d r i p from my pen.
___________________________
November 18, 2017
Poetry/Verse/Simple Mutterings/Writing Is My Everything
Copyright Protected, ID 17- 1000-06-00-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
ducks g l i d i n g on a pond
a weeping willow tree touching the blue
a park of green and benches in rows
a blue sky above
white clouds f l o a t i n g by
tadpoles swimming at the edge
why do I remember this . . .
after all these years
with tears
as I stood a little girl
holding father's hand
____________________________
February 25, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/Simple Mutterings/A Memory
Copyright Protected, ID 18-9982-09-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Oh, with great delight, from
out of the shadowy night, I hear
a loud, powerful melody drifting
such a mournful song
with a chant soul-stirring
a songster with whistles that crescendo
trills, chirping, twittering and gurgles, concerto lovely
that sends my own soul on a journy into the depths of my mind, for
beautiful memories
and faraway dreams yet to come . . .
_______________________________
February 23, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/Simple Mutterings/The Nightingale
Copyright Protected, ID 18-9967-55-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
life can be hard
it can slap a person down
suck out all hope(yes I
should say me)
until I feel so small
and insignificant
my thinking con-
fused
and swirling
I just want to escape to tranquility
to quiet and deep
silence with no reason to speak
alone
just me
dwelling with my poetry
sometimes the stru-
ggle is just too much and I am weary
the hill is too high
the answer
unknown to me
so maybe I will do nothing
that's what my father used to say to me
"when you don't know what to do
do nothing"
__________________________
January 23, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/Simple Mutterings/the hill is too high
Copyright Protected, ID 18-985-746-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
I held my baby
so perfect and very dead
and kissed his cold lips.
Till my last breath I will mourn,
my mourning shall shatter hearts.
I dressed him in blue
and laid him in sweet repose,
many passed with tears.
I had to let my boy go,
that parting haunts me ever.
_______________________
December 19, 2017
Poetry/Tanka/Simple Mutterings/Mourning and Parting
Copyright Protected, ID 17-9742-39-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
in my dream he watches and I feel his desire
his need and I fear it, yet something lures me
I sense him in my dark room and feel confusion
it overwhelms me, I can hear his breathing close
he whispers my name, it comes violently like thunder
looking into his fathomless eyes I see love and hate
then his lips are crushing mine, it is obsession
he is evil, he is love, he is desire, he is cruelty
go away, come back, I love you, I hate you
he wraps his arms around me, oh the memory
then the dream fades and I am left crying
why does he haunt me but only the rain answers
____________________________
November 14, 2012
Poetry/Free Verse/Simple Mutterings/only the rain answers
Copyright Protected, ID 11-4359-33-14
All Rights Reserved, 2012, Constance La France
Mute Mutterings
Of Carolyns Confessions Bartender...
Pistol packing momma lay that pistol down,
as the old song goes:)
sounds like the probby was suitably addressed,
bullet in kneecap, just a little perplexed,
back in ya corner you ***** cos your next,
hold on while im sukkin me last cigarette ...
on ya cobber, mine....Don
The world is in a spiral spin,
negative needs reversing in,
is the fix another bloody war,
blood n death of millions more,
yes mankind's mortal sin...
very just and kind of words,
hope, humanity, not unheard,
every man is just a brother,
every woman may be mother,
on the healthy scale of things.
Tony, beware of the deep,
the thoughts that creep,
memory searches one,
shut your eyes n go to sleep ,
and memory canters some,
beware the deep, of thinking some...
Bob
different views, different states of mind,
what is important, to that fellow of kind,
some of the spiritual, some money blind,
kindness to all doesn't leave us behind?
Don Johnson
that love flies by on silver wings
what hurts the most is how it stings
but rise we must for love it brings
us lonely little ding a lings....Don Johnson
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