Short Normandy Poems

Eugene Boudin of Normandy
painted beach scenes or all to see
He had a very sketchy style
plein air spontaneity full of guile...

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hors d'oeuvre norwegienne
bisques de normandy
canetons d'aylesbury
pudding au yorkshire
gateau foret noir
vin champagne
Bonn(sic) !...

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The mini skirt walked away
The night remained unopened for 50 years
An unexploded grenade  
Buried beneath the golden wheat fields of Normandy.

2/28/21
Lost Connections...

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There
on the beaches
lay a thousand dreams.

There
in the fields
stand a thousand stones.

There
in the skies
soar a thousand souls.

There
in the homeland
weep a thousand hearts.

There
for the future
sleep a thousand pasts....

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It's like D-Day, but with a V
And that is so  much better
Than men landing at Normandy
In cold and rainy weather

To a hail of bullets swift and cruel
Their intent is to destroy
But cupid's arrows pierce the heart
To pour out fervent joy...

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My Ancestors slogged in Scottish bogs
Washing wool for the textile folds
And dancing with the spinning jenny’s
Apparently, there were some English blokes 
That I can count among my folks
Well what do you know and what was the chance
Someone hailed from Normandy France
Add to these a lady of the Peloponnese
And this makes up ninety eight percent of me...

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Time sloshes back and forth.
A rubber flipper
once lost off the Normandy coast,
briefly surfaces.

Off the Bognor Regis coast
one sand-encrusted flip-flop floats by,
it escaped years ago.

There are krill
nibbling at my floating mind.

I may have to snorkel
further
before the sun comes up -

the jellyfish
are stealing my stuff again.

© a day ago...

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Velcro shod man
lingers in the V.A. clinic
for yet another visit;
he slowly turns pages,
reading pictures.

Withered man
peeking from beneath bushy eyebrows
laying odds on another day
at the park:  stooping
to stop the ball
a kid just threw curved
into the wheelchair.

Sitting
his old bowed head
white and sparse of hair
a tired head,
tired of waiting
to finish
the landing....

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It had been read, read again,
and re-read.
He could recite it.
He still opened it
unfolded its dirty creases
sniffed the long absent odor
of her perfume,
strained to recall
the features of her face.

They had dreamt of marriage
of children, of a future.
Those dreams lost,
floating away
soaked in the bloodied waters
of a Normandy beach.

1/6/2021

The Last Love Letter Poetry Contest...

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Tombstones At Normandy

Each tombstone is small sliver of a sheave; 
With love bring in and behind never leave; 
Memories exist; 
Will be missed; 
Thank God their souls he did retrieve. 

James Horn

I am amazed how you can put 
so many words together in such 
an incoherent way and end up
saying nothing at all. That is truly 
such a rare talent that only you
seem to possess more or less....

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Across the sprawling grounds 
 White crosses all in a row 
Covering the country side one by one 
 Each one a father, brother, husband , son 
 Each cross stands proud and tall 
 A symbol of the freedom they gave us all 
From Bull Run to Gettysburg, to World War 1 
The crosses kept coming on and on 
From Normandy to Vietnam 
The crosses kept coming on and on 
For all who have gone 
 Pray we have stopped seeing the crosses go on and on...

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Today is D-Day, once a date
Evocative of war
When Allied troops invaded France
In 1944.

By land and sea and air, the soldiers
Stormed the Nazis’ hold
In Normandy, an operation
Sneaky, smart and bold.

Commemorated in the past,
Historically germane,
To younger folk, its meaning
Would need someone to explain.

As years go by, the stories fade
And though they might be taught,
We cannot bring to relevance
The wars and battles fought....

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.

              'Bout the thistles
                     shrubs
               Faded log steps
                      yours

                      Yesss
                   i'm thank'n
          Jehovah God Almighty
                  For giv'n me
                       sight

                       mine
                      locked
                     to yourn
                    Normandy
                       eyne
                       sight
...

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We Had Relied

For you to be a fabulous father
Some soldiers would say, "Oh, why bother"
At Normandy are imprints of many feet
Maybe my father's one day may meet.

Another country, he was at war with
While wearing helmet some called pith
Made out of metal others had been
For protection to return and fight again.

We went forward and never were retreating
And all of those moments are now fleeting
Now part of past after great soldiers died
Who on so often we once had relied....

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