Easy to get lifted up
billowed out on the wonder
of it all,
the manifest beauty, the panorama
of nature’s splendor.
Easy also to ignore
a single termite’s latent ability
to consume mighty mansions,
or the flood and glut of plenty
to strip away the flourishing
along with the withered.
See that little infant
toddling barefoot through sweet grass,
plump little feet
moving to their own crazy rhythms,
how like playful Shiva’s dance it seems
as He crushes meadow buttercups
to ignite cosmic suns!
See that tiger glowing bright
in the blind fathoms of a starless night?
That is your own hungry heart
knowing
that you alone
are your own chosen
prey.
When the Earth burns too bright
it is the fire in your blood,
that see’s beyond right or wrong,
destruction and creation.
Such visioning
is far beyond rapture.
In her arms
an infant wails
as my daughter walks the hall
soothing her new babe, and the miracle unfolds. . .
Her wee one's pangs will vanish.
Soon enough, brown hair, like the child's older sister's,
will lighten up and lengthen,
and sleepy eyes will brighten!
All that is strange
to the newborn's searching eyes
will then become familiar, as seeing, then testing,
the small girl goes from crawling,
then to toddling.
All too soon, full grown, she'll walk the hall herself,
a young new mother comforting an infant
in her arms.
Thoughts in turmoil
Make the mind meek
Drought in rainfall
Flooding the night
The scent of success
Slays in solitude
Let sentient stand
To see beyond sentiment
The brain you water grows greener
Like a toddler toddling
No deadline to making headlines
Luminous miscellaneous adorn my crown,
Frills and strawberries,
Thorny circlet dusted with a light layer of twinkle,
As my eyes hysteric with confusion
muse on this loss.
I gather the lumps of loaf
crossing the border of light
toddling and traversing through the hues
of bent butter beauties
drooping into the worn old stone
one foot forward of the other
two stayed peering past
my grandfather built all this.
silver lick of hair stuck to his brow
that little rhythm in his hands
trembling like the trickles of water
heaved, trodden, beat and brandished
by the river rover.
oxidized poles decorated with patched quilts and marked clothes
trodden through top soil
of the hearth of the earth
will i even sense this again?
this burrowing thing inside of me
borrowed from ages long past their prime
will i too become another fleck on the sun scorched sill ?
In the verdant pasture perched on the hilly spine,
ewe leads her frolicking lamb flock in the sunshine.
A lineage of woolly convoy on blithe bouncy trails,
its baaing symphony in the pastoral plateau sails.
With the satin fleece as soft as the morning mist,
each prancing sheep she adores can’t be missed.
Shepherd's calm control emits from love of ewe,
as her eyes glisten like dulcet drops of dawn dew.
She escorts the flock toddling in a dawdling pace,
ewe notice, she's the laudable lady of great grace.
As the sun sets painting horizon with golden hue,
the sleepy sheep seek for the cuddle of caring ewe.
Toddling, toddling
Along the path
A basin
Full of water
Hugged tight
To my chest
It shall not spill
It shall not spill
But a wet trail
Is left behind
It was full
It was full
But now
Barely half
It shall not spill
It shall not spill
To the chest
Held fast
But the rocking
The rocking
And the dripping
Leaves a wet trail
Behind
Of the toes I have but five,
Somehow they think they're alive.
Toddling about all day,
One would think they know what the feet say!
On the other side are five more,
To make a pair as I step out the door.
As human as they can be,
Only perverse occasionally.
When one goes one way,
And not the other,
Puts my heart all a flutter!
I can only say,
"Feet go this way!"
And hope my toes tag a long,
Not get lost singing a song,
At the local Bar-B-Que,
Or dancing on a table or two!
It seems to me quite strange,
When toes play such silly games.
Go this way and that!
Until I catch them with my hat!
Corralled in socks they do obey,
And help me get on with my day!
Window opening to the backyard groove
Was hardly opened in the winter months
Dusted often but shut soon after that
Now when warm sunrays peeking through glasses
Blossoms and leaves throw colorful party
Offering a farewell to the leaving cold
Deer are seen in fields, came out of bushes,
squirrels are not hiding in their nests
Ducks started toddling parade with ducklings
A long drive to sea shore or camping out
Picnics, fishing, barbeque and more
People are rushing for outdoor assemblies
Had it not come after idle winter
The spring would not be that wonder
“Can you feel the soul of an abandoned house,
can you hear the whispering”...by Constance La France
An old, abandoned house touches the heart
its walls whisper of the lives it once held
though pillars and stairs now crumbling apart
lingering stillness stirs a mystic spell
as it yearns for those who long ago dwelled
Children's laughter echoes in nursery
their toddling drawings still hanging on walls
Gone are dinners, dances, lights strung in trees
walls sigh with memories, as darkness falls,
shivering with cold, the emptiness calls
In walls' whispers, I hear their plaintive mourn
their loneliness felt in the splintered wood
in rose-hued wallpaper faded and torn
shells of their dignity, once bold and good
their whispers only by wind understood
May 25, 2023
for "Writing Challenge - C Quotes" poetry contest
by Constance La France
howmanysyllables.com=10
A gentle breeze wafting in through the window
Still, white waves lapping the seashore
The sun bidding goodbye to an iridescent sky
Leaves rustling as the zephyr kisses them
Soft snow swirling down from heaven
Stars peeping out through the darkness of night
Raindrops dripping in harmonious beat
Fluffy clouds changing shapes to impress
Songbirds belting out melodic music
Rainbows cheering us on from their lofty position
Waterfalls cascading over rocky mountains
Flowers blossoming anywhere in brilliant hues
Moonlight filtering in through the dappled shadows
Soft grass growing beneath to tickle our feet
Dewdrops decorating each blade in the dawn
Children toddling about babbling in their own language
The hot sand accepting the imprints of our feet
Stones turning to pebbles as the river rushes over them
Dandelions dancing with the puff of wind ~~
Are just a few snippets of God's everlasting wonders !!
1st April 2023
Quitting coffee and should it kill me
Want to say that it's been fun
Sidled up to this specific teat
Not long after my first weaning done
My body trying to clue me in
As I clung to my drug of choice
No longer willing to continue
In stifling my tired kidney's voice
Just read it slows down the flow of lymph
to a toddling terrapin crawl
Immunities highway like that of L.A.'s
Cannot abide it you all
My plan to reduce to a cup a day
Followed by a day after another
It's warmth will be missed the aroma as well
As a weanling ripped from its mother (sob)
Truthfully not looking forward to
Shifting to water and herbal teas
Saying goodbye to my old friend caffeine
Long considered the hairy bee's knees
A bundle of joy you arrived in satin night of June
With eyes that sparkled like the gleaming moon.
Rocking in my arms you gripped softly my fingers
Rolling down the years the warm touch still lingers.
With you by my side I walked on the pearly beach
I saw toddling footsteps grow, mine in your reach.
The fairy tales I told you at night before you slept
Took me to my childhood days memory had kept.
You danced in joy when clouds came low in sight
Drifting away from the birds on en echelon flight.
In colorful dusk when the sun went down to rest
You saw in the hued sky the birds fly to the nest.
Time came when you found your sky and to say
Goodbye to me in twilight hours and to fly away.
_________________
June 4, 2022
Contest : Flight Two
Sponsored by : Chantelle Anne Cooke
Recently in my dream
a wild pigeon flew inside my house
landed on the corridor and
turning into a baby
came toddling to me.
I lifted him,held in my arms
and loitered here and there.
I asked , “Dear,
when will you turn again into a bird ? “
But before listening his reply
I woke up from sleep.
It was five morning ,
chirping of the birds heard
three wild pigeons walking
on the courtyard .
I have some fruit trees growing
at the backward and courtyard
of my house
on which they usually perch.
It didn’t matter when I was a kid.
All the little things I never did.
Toddling around, it’s cute when I can’t speak.
But even then, my future was bleak.
She coddled and cooed and mended my cries.
Until I grew up, with pain in my eyes.
This is my humble dedication to our fellow poet Krish Radhakrishna, who recently mourns the loss of his dear mother. I came to know about this after reading his blog. My sincere prayers for his mother's soul to rest in peace and my heartfelt condolences to the whole family.
She yearns to catch the first glimpse of you,
The day you are out from her tender womb,
Her priceless pearl that gleams with hopes new,
As she holds you close, tears of joy overflows.
Her heart skips a beat everytime you stumble,
As you take your first toddling steps to walk;
She forgets her hunger without a grumble,
As she patiently feeds you for hours.
She has been your eyes until you had
Your own perspective;
She has been your wings until you gave
The first flutter to reach new destinations,
To give wings to your cherished dreams.
Nothing in this world can replace a mother's love,
Her pure soul now safe in Heavenly abode.
With her sincere devout prayers from above,
She will guide you forever like a beacon from sky.
Written Date: 02/04/2021
Now Submitted for: Mother Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
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