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Dear Heart- Wiishkobe Ode Poem
if I had all the money that I ever wanted,
I suppose that I could travel the world;
live in a better home, buy designer clothes and stuff,
if money was no object in my life . . .
but you see money cannot help me,
each day my health is more delicate, slipping further away;
and all the money in the universe will not change a thing,
this is my struggle and my daily reality . . .
the things I give myself are simple,
relaxing music to soothe this weary soul;
peace, tranquility and love to ease my pain,
and I ask the Lord for acceptance . . .
in meditation I try to fathom the why,
of course, with money I could go to a fancy retreat;
but a corner in my bedroom is set aside for meditation and relaxing,
and it is there I have placed peaceful things that cost very little . . . .
perhaps with money I could get better drugs,
but no drug is going to change this girl's destiny;
this I know deep in my heart and soul,
I have for a long, long time . . .
I think a lot about my past and life so far,
the paths I took or did not take;
the things I said or did not say,
could money have changed my journey in any way . . .
a warm bath, a cozy bed, a sweet purring cat,
paper and pen so I can write;
my laptop within reach, a walk in nature listening to the birds,
a loved one to hold my hand . . . .
these are my indulgences and they may not seem like much to you,
but I feel like the wealthiest person in this world;
for money cannot buy happiness nor can it buy life,
all I need is the indulgence of tranquility . . .
''and that comes from within''
____________________________
January 28, 2015
Poetry/Free Verse/if I had money
Copyright Protected, ID 01-636-474-28
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard Contest, No 259,
Brian Strand,
Seventh Place
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Submitted to the Standard contest, Poems That Are Soup Favorites,
sponsor, Poet Destroyer,
Tenth Place
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Submitted to the Premier contest , Indulgences,
sponsor, Shadow, Judged 02/2015
First Place
In Top 100 Poems on January, 2021
Submitted to the Premier contest, Your Personal Favorite, No. 2
sponsor, L. MILTON HANKINS, Judged 10/18/2021
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2015
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Dear Heart- Wiishkobe Ode Poem
death is near-
a fading out tomorrow will never be-
gone away an empty shell will dwell
birds and butterflies come fluttering
on gossamer silky wings
wings soft as a spider web
and the curtains stir in the open window
death
comes
like a bird of prey
drifting silently
and hummingbirds hover in heavenly harmony
her
hair
streaming down her shoulders
the clock of time stops the end has come
deep blue is the sky beyond this realm
birds and butterflies come fluttering
on gossamer silky wings
and hummingbirds hover in heavenly harmony
blue birds are twittering in the trees
she breathes
a long breath
pauses
and then
the moment of death a heaviness descends
death comes
like a bird of prey
drifting silently
she hangs
her head like a dead flower the mind dies
a peacefulness a light that fills the room her spirit leaving
and on the bedside
a beautiful bouquet of red roses dulcet full of scent
oh her life was fleeting
infused with happiness beauty laughter
the dream has ended the final curtain has dropped
farewell my beauty I kiss her lips her still warm hand
outside a gentle rain has begun
falling on the weeping willow tree
my weeping tears
dropping soaking her blanket
___________________________
June 26, 2015
Free Verse/"death of a friend"
Copyright Protected, ID 684720
Submitted to the contest, Any Poem You Are Proud Of
Sponsor, Mystic Rose
Second Place
I am proud of this poem because I wrote right after the death of my friend,
she died of cancer and I was with her at the end witnessing it through the eyes
of a poet. It is my most viewed poem and I was able to capture the style
of E.E. Cummings perfectly in my opinion.
__________________________
Submitted to the contest, A poem You Are Proud Of #3
sponsor, Skat
Fifth Place
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Submitted to the contest, Death and Dying
sponsor, Debbie Guzzi
Second Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2015
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Dear Heart- Wiishkobe Ode Poem
A feather lost glides, drifting, it soars,
In the mighty wind, it twirls and swirls, as if dancing;
Once, the People owned all the wilderness,
They called it home, now they watch it be destroyed.
There, high upon a sheer jagged, rocky cliff,
An appaloosa horse of many colors stands majestic;
There, under a blazing azure sky above,
An Ojibwa girl looks at the beautiful land of Canada.
There, in that mighty wind that roars and howls,
Eagle feathers in my hair and on my horse gently flutter;
There, below the Ottawa River thunders,
And the vast lands of wilderness stretch to the horizon.
There, above in that cloudless sky canopy,
Eagles fly, symbolizing the Peoples spirit and strength;
There, in my dream, I am one with my ancestors,
The only sound is the wind that moves the fluttering feathers.
A feather lost glides, drifting, it soars,
In the mighty wind, it twirls and swirls, as if dancing;
Once, the People owned all the wilderness,
They called it home, now they watch it be destroyed.
____________________________
April 29, 2016
Poetry/Verse/"A Lost Feather"
Copyright Protected, ID 16-783-077-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
4/1/2019, 2019 Poetry Marathon Final Placement
Sponsor, Mark Toney
Seventh Place
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Submitted to Marathon, Mile 24
Sponsor, Mark Toney
First Place
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For the contest, A Poem Please
sponsor, John Lawless
Fourth Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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Dear Heart- Wiishkobe Ode Poem
You know me as a poet, and writer of poems sad,
I take poetic license, violating rules and conventions;
telling a story using figurative language, I share,
my life's journey and sorrows in beautiful words.
Few beyond this safe harbor have read my poetry,
I write with raw emotion and I lay my soul bare;
my poems are my treasures and I keep them hidden,
oh, fathomless is the pain.
My view on life is somewhat sadly fatalism,
my destiny foretold, it is already written;
there are many facets to me that I share with few,
oh, classical music moves me to write my poetry and words;
I love Chopin, poet of the piano, Mozart, oh that lyrical charmer.
And I am a lover of art, going to the art gallery weekly,
I love Van Gogh, Degas, Pissario, Bernini and Botticello;
Leonardo and of course, Michelangio, I could go on and on.
I am also fascinated in the architecture in my city.
Often, I just walk the streets looking for beauty,
admiring Gothic revival with its arches and vaults;
and I love the Victorian building where I reside,
with my cat.
I have a small garden, created with a love for nature,
a tribute to my mother's great fondness of flowers.
the things you may not imagine about me are many, for example
I adore vintage jewelry and clothes, and antique anything;
and I am a collector of books, reference, dictionaries, all in a clutter.
And one last thing that I find so very odd and strange,
is that although since childhood I have walked with death;
and death haunts me- I am quite happy, although quite internal,
and I do love and absolutely need my silence.
_________________________________
July 30, 2015
Poetry/Verse/All That I Am
Copyright Protected, ID 30-695-897-30
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Submitted to Standard Contest # 260,
sponsor, Brian Strand
Fifth Place
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Submitted to Standard contest, 100 In A Row #1,
sponsor, Poet Destroyer
Fifth Place
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Submitted Premier to the contest, All That I Am
sponsor, C. Puddifoot,
Seventh Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2015
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Dear Heart- Wiishkobe Ode Poem
A clutter of wood and dust and cobwebby corners,
And dappled sun shining through dirty windows;
On his work table a drawing; a project in progress,
And tin cans and jars of nails and screws on shelves.
Tools on hooks waiting for hands that will never come,
I touch the old tools like they were the finest of lace;
And I cannot help thinking, who will want all this,
He was a simple man, my father, and I loved him so.
His death was fast, no one expected him to leave,
In a blink he was gone, and all I have are memories;
I linger there with the dust that floats in the sun,
And I weep and weep for what I have lost this day.
Then, I pick up his pencil and on his paper I write,
I write this poem of pain and it is the beginning;
The beginning of my writing as an adult with soul,
I leave the child, that was me, and become a poet,
Today.
_________________________
July 21, 1997
Poetry/Free Verse/Dad's Workshop
Copyright Protected, ID 1997-714-811-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym
Entered in the contest, Celebrating My Fav's,
sponsor, Andrea Dietrich
First Place
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Entered in the contest, Any Poem, #36
(a poem that placed in one of her past centests)
sponsor, Poet Destroyer
First Place
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For the contest, A poem written before Poetry Soup,
sponsor, Poet Destroyer
Fourth Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2015
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Dear Heart- Wiishkobe Ode Poem
I gather up each word, each thrown away,
putting my poetry back together;
words "thrown" to wither and decay,
this garbage- I love forever.
My poems called worthless,
my poems so breathless;
poems never- wordless,
making a gem out of garbage;
is my endeavor.
My pen will bleed with my dark surrender,
writing my poems like a rose bouquet;
praying this sad pain will leave someday,
I gather up each word, each thrown away;
and weep- making a gem out of garbage.
______________________
July 25, 2016
Poetry/Rhyme/"Making A Gem Our Of Garbage
Copyright Protected, ID 16-811-416-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Create An Idiom
sponsor, Jessie Day
First Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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Dear Heart- Wiishkobe Ode Poem
As I stood in my garden amongst my flowers,
a parade of blue butterflies was drifting;
past my lovely brilliant primrose rock garden,
they kissed a purple cornflower growing.
They stopped and caressed rainbow painted daisy,
drifting over to drooping bleeding hearts;
resting on white campania with their trumpets,
like sparkling garden gems quietly hovering.
Blue larkspur and columbine called for them,
the tiny rubies twirled over in a waltzing dance;
and between yarrow, sage and yellow tick seed,
they spotted echinacea and came fluttering.
Floating on over they kissed orange scabiosa,
then the assemblage of sweet butterflies left;
just stopping for a quick sip of fountain water,
and gone this parade of fluttering blue gems.
__________________________
August 11, 2015
Poetry/Verse/"Fluttering Gems"
Copyright Protected, ID 15- 699-038-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Submitted to Late Summer Premier Contest
sponsor, Brian Strand
First Place
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Submitted to,Any Poem Written in 2015, Contest
sponsor, Julia Ward
Third Place
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Submitted to, Butterflies Among Us, Contest
sponsor, A Skat
Fourth Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2015
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Dear Heart- Wiishkobe Ode Poem
until an hour before the devil fell,
God thought him beautiful in heaven . . .
(Arthur Miller)
God created his angels long before
the temptation of Adam and Eve,
and the angel Lucifer was the most beautiful
he moved freely between roaming earth
and back to heaven and to the throne of God
Lucifer fell from heaven because of his pride
conceit in his own beauty
his wisdom
his intelligence
his power
he desired to be GOD and not a servant of God
he was exceedingly beautiful and he used that beauty for evil
God made him the highest of all angels
a heaven where all the angels were beautiful but Lucifer
was God's most lovely creation
Lucifer wanted the throne of God
wanted to take over heaven
cast out God
in any way he could divise
but an hour before the temptation in the garden
God cast the beautiful angel, Lucifer out of heaven
he did not fall
he was pushed out
Lucifer came down and down
created an anti-God city where he was the ruler
he created hell
and became the Satan that we know of today
and temptation became his sword of power
he can appear to you in many forms
from beautiful or evil
a monster with horns
or even a hissing snake
Satan moves freely between roaming earth
and back to his dark city . . .
his only purpose to fill his city of Hell
__________________________
February 8, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/The Beauty of Lucifer
Copyright Protected, ID 16-754-596-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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Dear Heart- Wiishkobe Ode Poem
I stopped my car on the highway,
To watch the soft fading sun falling;
The end of another azure sky blue day.
A golden sunset is like a beautiful painting,
I knew in that moment that my God was creating;
His paint brush swirling to send gold and yellow drifting.
_________________________
August 3, 2015
Poetry/Rhyme/Sunsets are Painted by God, and So
Copyright Protected, ID 15- 697-028-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, The Answer,
sponsor, Skat
Fifth Place
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Poem of the Day - August 5, 2015
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2015
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Dear Heart- Wiishkobe Ode Poem
you May-
think me odd perhaps strange
peculiar and off the wall-
but I
like to wander cemeteries
among rows on rows
I love the tranquility
there is a peace like no other
where hidden birds sing melodies
and little creatures scurry
and time stands still
and I like to read inscriptions
on tombstones in the dappled sun
or rain wet or snow covered
gravestones monolith
flagstones flat and small
all the RIP inscriptions
among rows on rows
the relic stones I do adore
those traces
of family history
faded now and obscure
covered in moss some toppled over
I have to get close to read
and even then it is a mystery
on a bright sunny day
camera in hand journal ready
my mind at peace
I noted one stone inscription
reading U N K N O W N
this of all the stones this broke my heart
among rows on rows
no name no date no record
no flowers ever I am sure
no memorial of any kind
a homeless man, perhaps
or woman, maybe
a baby unwanted so sad
of all the commemorative slabs
the huge monuments with many names
with beautiful words engraved
of remembrance with dates and names
this unknown stone has broken my heart . . .
____________________________
November 9, 2017
Poetry/Free Verse/One Stone-Unknown
Copyright Protected, ID 17-9597-09-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Two Word Challenge
sponsor, John Lawless
Second Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2017
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