Butterflies

– fluttering bye –

Listen to audio

Butterflies

– fluttering bye –

A butterfly
Searching
Blossoms,
Pursuing 
The mote
To provide,
Held florae
Need of alive 
Ye find dote,
On their array
Hence to adorn
Tho its short stay,
Be of iffy longevity 
Not butterfly’s say,  
Dancing in brevity…
 
Pushed by currents
He floats consciously   
On breezes apparent,
While ever so mindful
Found be lepidoptera, 
With beauty’s warrant 
Would remain pleasing, 
Thru a short summer fly 
Has butterflies trapezing,
All the while fluttering bye!
    Ode to butterflies, that they maybe forever…


                © Jean-Jacques Fournier
	                                                        written in Sweetsburg
                                           	                     August 2, 2022
Music - Endless Beauty, Pixabay							
Photography - Marianne Dessis
Audio - Jean-Jacques Fournier

“ Distant Faces ” – etched on my mind –

by Claude Théberge 1987
ceramic mural 12 ‘ x 9’ for Eastern Topographies,

Ossipee, New Hampshire, USA

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Distant Faces 

            – etched on my mind –

 There are traces
 From prior times, 
 Of distant faces
 Etched on my mind,
 That stay forever 
 Hence so adorn,
 A place of musing 
 Where past ground,
 Be worth pursuing
 Tho but a semblance,
 Might now be found…  

 As memories falter 
 Thus in mind’s eye,
 Imaginings alter
 And fall beyond,
 Familiar places 
 Of aging optimism, 
 In mature zeal 
 Be timeless isms,
 Scarcely notes real
 With fading traces,
 Of now distant faces… 

 Tho wishful thinking  
 Could yet show trace, 
 That offers an inkling 
 Alludes to per chance,
 A faint hint of passing
 Mightn’t ye remember,  
 Enough of such places
 May outlive December, 
 Has ye find the more, 
 Of now held distant faces!   

                 © Jean-Jacques Fournier 
  
                          Ode to Hilary, Natalie and Wayne, old friends! 
                                    
 Mural - by artist Claude Theberge ...
 Faces - Personal & private collection ...
 Music - Excerpt of,  Night Jazz, by Chet Baker ...   




“ The Dancer ” – be the devil upstairs –

IMG_4125   Listen to audio

“ The Dancer ”

            – be the devil upstairs –

I’d know the music

Just by listening,

To the patter

On the floor above,

And the pulse

That cajoles her feet,

As she capers

To a mystifying beat,

Like it matters

To the dancer,

In whose rhythm

With melodic flair,

She so adorns

Be the devil upstairs,

To mirror,

The center of a storm

Frenzied to a level,

That shan’t be mistaken

As the dancer who conforms…

 

She’s the devil I can tell

Tho follow I with ease,

For her dance casts a spell

Which leads me to believe,

I’m destined to her hell    

If she decides to leave,

Yet just so I can listen

To the rhythmic patters,

Bent by that devil upstairs

Be the dancer who so matters!

 

                                                   inspired in Vence, Fr.

                                               written in Sweetsburg PQ.

                                                         April 21, 2003

 

   

“ The Raven ” – a mysterious fellow –

IMG_1400   Listen to audio

Be the raven’s bent

In a populous stead,

Did ye gods ferment

He be of noble head,

Thus to be potentate

Rates occupy a state,

For the raven to lead

As he’ll find placate,

In mind and in deed

Despite he so deigns,

Be notion one heeds

As held cause of bane…

 

Too long perceived

Said distorted vein,

Of pods vulgar seed

Be ill-informed say,

To induce bias feed

Will imply be stray,

Yet will recall face

Of kind behaviour,

No matter the place

To share information,

Among fellow ravens

That identify humans,

Who mean recognize

A genius well proven…

 

Thus so cawing bellows

Assumes adorns the heavens,

Till be croaks rendered hollow

To attest be a mysterious fellow!

 

© Jean-Jacques Fournier

 

 

 

“ Distant Faces ” ~ etched on my mind ~

 

There are traces

Of distant faces,

Forever etched

On my mind,

Hence to adorn

A place of musing,

Till memory falters

And falls beyond

Images altered,

When one’s recall

Will scarcely note

The fading traces,

As the road bends

To where life ends,

Which for all men

Be the distant face,

Of an unknown place!