I'm just a sweet, old grandpa cat,
and now I love to stay inside.
When I was young, I never sat;
out in the fields, I'd hunt and hide.
My family that cares for me
has shown me how to simply live
an indoor life that keeps me free
to share with them in all they give.
I love my small and comfy chair!
With cup of tea held by my paw-
read storybooks of what's out there
of animals I never saw.
With glasses that help me to see
and clothes to keep me warm and dry,
this old-time kitty must agree-
a happy grandpa cat am I!
Surely it is the stuff of storybooks,
the instrumental fanfare of lovers;
Silhouettes strolling into the sunset,
where did all of this delusion come from?
Maybe a piece is grounded in what’s real,
fire fiction has to begin somewhere right?
Go ahead, convert me at once I say,
I’d love to be a reborn believer;
Oh, that first kiss was like a slow ballad
and waking to the face of Prince Charming;
Such a clean high off that dopamine rush,
I just knew he had memorized my taste;
Falling in love under dreamy bright stars,
affection slowly repairs ancient scars.
I wish for days past
and yearn for that kind of love...
and the wind whispers
I wish upon the stars at night and hunger to go back, back to when things were beautiful in my world. As a child I walked hand in hand with father into nature and he taught me all he knew. I miss that. Mother taught me all she knew about the flowers in her garden, now I have my own garden. I know she is up above tending Heavens gardens ! I thirst for days when life was easy when the decay of humanity was far away in my childish mind and I only cared about dolls and storybooks ...
the wind takes my hand
come it mumbles to my soul ...
take an unknown path
_________________________
April 4, 2021
Poetry/Modified Haibun/Wish
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1343-878-04
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, All Yours (Apr 6)
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 04/05/2021
First Place
Christopher Robin a friend from long ago,
His author A.A. . Milne.
His friends Winnie-the-Pooh, and Tiger
Delightful and kind.
He was seen with his friends,
Champion of storybooks.
Real folklore hero,
Beloved storybook friend,,
Colorful character ,
Visiting his companions from the acre wood.
Beloved and read by society,
What miracle this time passage.
Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz
This is a poem about books
Not just books,
But what happens between us and books
Our relationship with books
To some-
They’re only stacks and stacks of a series of words
To some-
They are their teachers when no teachers are around
To some-
They are like the family they never had
To some-
They are the keys to adventures waiting to be found.
Books, books and books!
I see storybooks,
textbooks,
revision books,
comic books,
Novels and anthologies
Vicissitude in ideologies!
Reading is an action of exploring-
The mysterious conflict of a detective in an action novel
Reading could also be
Testing your know-how on hard, heinous, words that make you grovel!
In books-
Of profound love and allegory I found a letter by the beach
Read about the grief and sorrow of a widowed man
I trailed a rabbit down a hole and got lost in a dream
Fought and slew a dragon, I’m the hero of Wonderland!
Sure, of course!
You might get tired of it
After all, it’s human nature
To take action, put an end to it.
28/03/2020
My heart utters gently: you are seven;
I am too. Yet, the bloom of womanhood
carries us now unto fields where
spiced pleasure and abandonment mingle…
I reminisce our childhood years, when as a girl,
we would look out the bay window
till late evening, awaiting Dad’s arrival.
How cold those months while we freeze
in longing, in tireless dismembering
from an absence you , I could not bear:
oh, we escape through storybooks, art-play,
even dialogues with a guardian-moon
allowing the release of damn cries, ‘ We don’t
need a soldier, we need a father!
Although the fear of sudden loss remains,
this navel spins in unified order; knowing
he loves us despite his passion for freedom.
It is about time we embrace a wholeness
ordained by healed seasons… then to dance
around the fire, under dusk’s awakened joy;
searching for the magic of stars…and treasure
each purpose of Dad’s cherished footprints.
..................
Laura Loo Contest: Any Poem Won in November ( not from mine)
Written 10/17/2017
Resubmitted: 12/3/2017
Contest: What Child Is This
My better - half and my mum are the most important persons in this world to
me
The later is the dearest as u'd see
Born under mighty and protective rocks
A model with many positive characters in stock
Oft in sorrow, oft in joy. Never to flee
The best thing that ever happened to me
My conveyance on a nine months journey
A bodily composition of matrimony
The lab of my nine months biological process
Procuring for me a living license
Your back was a proxy for my bed
Many storybooks to me you've read
And the realities of life instead
You were the first person I saw
When my body was raw
When the pain of bringing me into this world had turned you sour
When the sight of me, a coat of blood I wore
Can I ever forget that welcoming smile?
Dancing on your face while waiting for me at the shore?
Ready to wrap me with a coat of fur.
You thought me to carry each step until I was stable
With your help, I can now always walk and never stumble.
Cos you'd saved me the trouble while I was still todlling
Ensur...... to be continued!
TECHNOLOGY has finally overcome STORYBOOKS;
psychic VISIONS and scientists have foretold.
COUSIN prefers these new-fangled technologies;
it's a tiny book stronghold.
The noise! All that wonderful noise!
The hollers and wails, the giggles and laughs.
The house-shaking clamor of girls and boys!
But I to my old empty house must return,
To an empty old bed in a big empty room,
To a big empty silence, all frigid and stern.
Wouldn't I make a fine father?
I love old those storybooks more the kids!
I'd read them all night, one after another
'Til they sleep, 'til they go wherever kids go.
When the day's all done and rest makes its claim
On them and on me ... I'll follow, I know ...
It's a problem of course, a bachelor's lament.
The young ones asleep with their parents at home
While I dream alone: fore'er alone it's not meant.
A bluebird sits in the old pine tree,
dressed in blue for the jubilee.
He plumps his feathers for the show,
(he's an absolute Romeo.)
He hears the other birds complain,
But Bluebird's there to entertain.
He ignores the jealous looks,
his name will be in storybooks.
Bluebird's soft lilt and rolling sway,
All of nature wants to stay.
To listen to his graceful song,
he wants you to come along.
He's the star of this bird show,
(he's an absolute Romeo.)
So beautiful, lovely and sweet
from shiny hair, to dainty feet;
Your pretty smile and innocence
rivals the moon’s incandescence.
I treasure times when we can feast
on storybooks, bored not the least;
At tea, content with lemonade,
and cookies topped with marmalade.
Daughter of mine, eyes full of mirth,
my heart sings praises for your birth.
*inspired by Eve's painting and a letter I made for my daughter around 5 years ago.
16 November 2015
Kim Patrice Nunez
Oil Painting Contest - 2nd Place
sponsor: Eve Roper
( THE BLINK OF AN EYE )
With the wink of a flirty eye
And a toss of your silken hair
I know you will be by my side
I`ll give you my love to share
You return my playful wink
I see the sparkle shine through
I know I will be spending
My forever only with you
In the shadow of time
I give my love without hesitation
Carry me on wings of white that blind
Lead me to my destination
Follow me into the sky
On wings of love we'll soar
I'll take you to that sacred place
Where we will part no more
Let us gaze upon the world
Reflecting the moonlight in our eyes
Feel the wonderment unfurl
In the sunlight of our lives
Our love is like a rainbow
After stormy clouds depart
A splash of color on gray skies
To rain upon my heart
I'll ride the lightning for you my love
Electricity pouring from my soul
Can you feel what I am capable of
For eternity it is you I will hold
Thunder pounding in my heart
As your love lays hold on me
A burning passion now ignites
This flame in you I see
They'll read of our lives in storybooks
Of how two hearts beat as one
Forever showing how true love should be
Burning as steady as the sun
Storybook Dreams
As sunset paints sky with liquid gold
Gilded dreams wait to tease bold
Wrapped in crimson robe’s affection
Mirroring tranquil books reflection
Within the fringes of a dream
Dance fancies waiting to be seen
Tucked sweetly in illusions bed
Pillow plumped under her head
Drifting off to fairytale land
While angels gently hold her hand
As the hour strikes midnight song
Rapunzel lets down her hair so long
Three bears dance in their forest den
Golden locks race across the glen
Snow White’s eyes from a kiss flutter
This prince for her and for no other
A pumpkin carriage with horses prancing
While Cinderella sparkles inside dancing
Riding on storybooks golden star
Her dreams taking her ever so far
Into pictured window’s storybook world
Where only her imagination can explore
~~~ Debra Squyres @ 2013~~~
In storybooks, my son and I chase dreams
to magical wonderlands near and far.
Catching rainbows on a golden sun beam,
we stop to wish upon a shooting star
and find fairies glowing inside a jar.
Clues come to life and a big red dog plays.
Adventures come to ordinary days.
Mother Goose entertains us with a rhyme,
And heroes chase villains high on sun rays.
Books skip through a boy's mind at story time.
You are not the knight I used to know,
now, you are more like the shadow of yourself;
you are down to zero… from a righteous rainbow.
Your sweet storybooks suddenly left the shelf;
a once loud and lovely voice that suddenly went low,
oh, how did your graceful giant turn… an erring elf?
The sparrows stole the saintly seeds you wanted to sow,
you no more have control over your happy home;
a once loud and lovely voice that suddenly went low.
Your keen kids do not stop to run and roam,
seeking succor from friends, families and… foes;
you no more have control over your happy home.
You have stepped on the Almighty God’s terrific toes,
you are now an unknown Island… leaving all alone;
seeking succor from friends, families and… foes.
You have lost your terrific theme, thrust and tone,
you are not the knight I used to know;
you fell into fire and broke your blessed bone,
down to zero… from a righteous rainbow.
~A Terzanelle entry for “Anything goes” contest~
Sponsor; Deborah Guzzi
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