Ms. and Mr. Squirrel — small, fluffy, and sweet,
All suited and matched, looking perfectly neat.
The day is long, the occasion huge,
Thanksgiving it is, cheering in the festive surge.
It’s time to cook together, to craft a feast,
And welcome little squirrels to celebrate at least.
So Ms. and Mr. Squirrel get down to cook,
Roast turkey, mash with gravy, keep them on tenterhooks.
Cornbread and dinner rolls brighten the table,
Cranberry sauce, yam, casserole—classic and fable.
Pumpkin and pecan pie bring gentle sweetness,
Cinnamon drifts through the air in soft completeness.
Then Ms. and Mr. Squirrel guide all in sharing,
A Day wrapped in gratitude, warmth, and caring.
They revisit fond memories, voice wishes ahead,
And end the night in prayer, with hearts well-fed.
The home office became synonymous with covid. Men built desks, for their wives, with their bare hands. Once again, a hammer and nails, took to a tree. Once again, and perhaps, for such a time as this, a husband found out just how hard at work his wife truly is.
—quote by poet
Taking Licks
Lily licks my hand
with tiny sandpaper tongue
as far as it goes
fur’s unruffled on desk shelf
on tenterhooks, daughter works
a cynosure of all eyes
carrying danger
like a backpack
seasoned acrobat
thrilling all and sundry
with go-big-or-go-home feats on the trapeze.
he's done this countless times.
a life lived on the edge
flirting with disaster
each moment could be his last
the audience
on tenterhooks
watching him fly through the air
he's done this countless times.
all was copacetic just minutes ago.
amid all the rip-roaring...T H U D!
seasoned acrobat lies dead on the ground.
everything stops; a hush
suddenly falls over the circus.
it's stunningly unexpected...
but he's done this countless times!
he never saw it coming,
no one did
d e a t h
in an instant.
Some years ago I met a young lady
Looked unhappy, a definite maybe
I also found her pretty ugly too
Never smiled or interacted with you.
One day came modification in her
She chatted and laughed as never before
With a glow in her eyes, a smile mile wide
And a happiness she just could not hide.
The reason for the turnaround I found
She’d been alike a prisoner, housebound
On edge, just in case her shackler appeared
She’d come to find sense and run from her fears.
So I had clearly misunderstood her
Which taught me a lesson that I deserved
Never to judge anyone on their looks
One doesn’t foresee who’s on tenterhooks.
The young lady’s fabulous, honestly
It shows how disfiguring fear can be
Happiness is the ruby in one’s crown
Especially to a girl around town.
I am on tenterhooks again
Tell me the reason why
And be assured, I’ll understand
The hardest of replies
The only thing I have for you
Is love to an extreme
And I can guarantee its true
Exactly what I mean
Please come to me, my darling love
Just lean your head on me
And there will be more stars above
And one will fall for thee.
The dream begins at the old rusty gate,
it groans- moans as I push it open wide;
to reveal a house in a ruined state,
and through decaying tangled vines I glide.
The house like an elegant sinking ship,
I ignore the grand staircase and paintings;
and on gnarled invading tree roots I trip,
the faded walls covered in moss veinings.
Always my dream steps take me to the books,
the once library room with shelves falling;
old, sad, tattered- my heart on tenterhooks,
I find them all precious and enthralling.
Then- the ivy draped old rusty gate calls;
and I close it . . . to sounds of morn' birdcalls.
__________________
June 23, 2022
Poetry/Sonnet/The Rusty Old Gate
Copyright Protected, 06-1467-307-23
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Theme chosen - The Old Rusty Gate
Written for the Standard contest, One in Five
sponsor, Joseph May, Judged 07/11/2022
First Place
Submitted to the Premiere contest, 2022 Poetry Marathon, Mile 11
sponsor, Mark Toney, Judged 08/12/2022
Damsel of isles
Phoenix so mysterious
Lo, I scribble
Your puerile ways
Puts me on tenterhooks
Musing on you
Your puerile ways
Puts me on tenterhooks
Musing on you
I spent my day shopping for rubies
I was on tenterhooks to make a choice
Rubies displayed on shelves glittered
And seeing the price tags I lost my voice!
Rubies' purity measured in carats
Their colors linked to zodiac sign
It was not easy job to choose one
With so many variations, I pined.
Seeing me grim, girl on counter smiled
"May I help you", she calmed me down
Given my budget, zodiac sign of my love
She helped me zero on to a Ruby crown.
Thanking her profusely, I left the gem store
A full day had been spent to buy this Ruby
Gleefully, my love accepted my day's labor
Hugged me like a scooby dooby do booby.
I let go of shopping pains, felt great
A candle light dinner in down town
As a return gift, I will cherish it forever
I am now more confident shopping a crown.
25.7.2020
Sweet and sensual
coconut melts along the top
staggered familiar sizes and shapes
droolings on the tongue, ambrosia
running through the fields like fidgety children
restless and free on tenterhooks
flitting like butterflies on the hunt
flower nectar candied on the bloom
drawn into the dream
of marshmallowed confectionaries
sweet sugared goodies
nectar for the gods
and simple butterflies.
Here I sit on the ocean bed
Just sifting mud and ooze,
But If it was up to me
It's not the life I'd choose.
It's dark down here, there's creepy things
All looking for a feast
So I live on tenterhooks,
Hiding from the beasts.
To be higher up the food chain
Is where I'd love to be,
But to be a shark, or a huge blue whale
Was not my destiny.
So my life is what it is,
I am just what I am.
But it's no fun at the bottom,
It's no fun being a clam.
Entry for
Personification poem of a pet, wild animal or insect Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin
2/9/18. Placed 6th.
THE BUHARI BROUHAHA
We were agog
excited, impatient, and in suspense
unknowingly ushering in the "gog of magog"
Oh! The mastery of his pretence!
Enmass, We obliged our franchise
Gulibly buying into their merchandise
here's my neighbours' drift, wise?
twill surfice me to do likewise
Where would the pendulum swing?
Would our "change' win?
We were on tenterhooks,
Fell for the tender looks.
on the edge of our seats,
"See as our Heart dey beat"
keen, anxious, and longing
We ignited the bombing.
The fanfare, the propaganda, the paparazzi
Ushering in the kamikazi
Much ado about "nothing"
The type that be hurting.
Buhari seems like a big deal,
Coming with a huge fill
but twas a bunch of baloney,
The chili pepper effect on peperoni
Out in the rain the restless winds
now moan as winter's pale rescinds.
The flowers at the window bay
are silent bells that stiffly sway
while marching on the roof begins,
a riot of a billion pins
that shatter all my disciplines.
I clasp my hands as if to pray
out in the rain.
I feel the breath of pardoned sins;
on tenterhooks this mid-March grins
its unborn promise. I'm away
to spread my arms in gleeful splay
and echo tales this cloudburst spins
out in the rain.
3/12/18
I went to bed expecting I would sleep
Hours later I am wide awake
It is no use me counting sheep
Things are on my mind
So I cannot sleep
Dawn is here
And I am not pleased
Oh why oh why
Can’t my conscience let me sleep?
A cacophonous chorus greets the new day
Some say is sweet
But all I want to say to them is
Go away
All I wish is to lie in bed in peace
I implore all birds to hence forth hold their incessant tweets
A man on tenterhooks
Needs his precious sleep
Another day is born
Another sleepless night is done
If only I felt rested
And not like I just ran a marathon
Praise to all who can sleep through the night
I am not
And will forever envy
Your selfish delight
Dawn oh dawn why did you come so soon?
You came just when I was awaiting
That soothing dream to appear
You can be so cruel and unfair
New day that is now here
You give much stress and
I find your presence onerous to bear
It is about time you played fair
And not harass me 365 days a year
When the past impressions gathered uncoil
The spirit gets encased in the mortal coil
Ages past they are lying buried deep; curled
Incarnate as human, when get unfurled.
Once in bodily frame, the play of elements
Asserts with expression of all rudiments
With an interplay of the three basic traits
Combine to express in different proportions.
Then commences the jigsaw puzzle; intensely
Pulling up and down the corridors; ruthlessly
Placing the spirit ever on tenterhooks; awfully
No escaping from the drama nearly permanently.
The cravings of flesh clamour for the fleeting
Joys that are no joys in the true sense of being
For release, the spirit persists in its yearning
But the flesh is weak though the spirit is willing.
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