Old Friends..

 

There’s some old friends of mine
that’s been tucked in the ground
Sleeping through winter
Out of sight out of  sound.
One by one they say Hello
Just like a faithful loyal friend
They come and stay then one day
Go back to sleep again…
What gets me through winter
Is thinking of them
And how I can’t wait
To see them again..
From Spring into summer
Through Autumn (winter POO)
I love getting a visit
from old friends don’t you? 

A Farmers Wife…

She didn’t set out to live her life
on a farm ( a farmer’s wife)
It’s just what happened, how it went down
A life spent planting , seeds in the ground.
At first her “City” self said no
She didn’t want to reap and sow.
She hated the smells and the hours it took
Seeing life on a farm as work,work,work.
It took her awhile but she came to see
She was right where she wanted to be..
From fresh eggs to gardens she loved them all
The new baby cows and the harvest in fall.
Somehow she grew into her life
Happy to be a Farmers Wife…
 

 

top  Photo by Cheryl. Poem by connetta

The Butterfly Dance…

• I’m sure we’ve all been
  a witness by chance..
  To a butterfly doing
  a Butterfly dance..
  from flower to flower
  they zip and they zoom
  Tasting each flower
  landing on every bloom..
  they seem to be moving
  to the sound of the wind
  Dancing out summer
  and dancing fall in  ..

Picture and poem by

Connetta Jean

Grandmas yellow Moss….

I used to think it such a waste of space
Grandmas yellow Moss all over the place..
Up her walk and around her back door..
Her little space could hold much more.
she  always planted them  near a drain
Like she was beating them at their own game..
cause trust me  the seeds they pop and sprout
(best to plant them near a old drain spout…)
Today i got a different vew of this thing
growing up Mary like a breath of spring…
It caught me by suprise..ya know?
like a answer to questions long ago…

Taking Count…

Too many are homeless!”
the good people said.
Let’s open up shelters
and give them a bed”

“How many are homeless?”
asked the governments men
“we’ll spend a few billion
and investigate them.”

“Too many are hungry”
the good people said
“let’s spend that money
to feed them instead”

“How many are hungry?”
asked the Governments men
“we’ll take a few million
and investigate them”

“The winter was cold”
the good people cried
“ice and snow ( a record low)
yet many slept outside.”

“we counted quite few”
said the governments men
” But we can take a few billion
And count them again”.

“There’s no way to count them”
the good people said
“If they’ve not a place
to be sheltered and fed”

“That’s not up to us”
said the governments men
“we can’t afford it
our budget’s too thin”

all poems and lyrics posted by me was written by me…Connetta Jean

Late Winter Sun….

Life on a Farm…

High on a hill sits a old rugged barn
(All that’s left of  An  old family farm)
with no heart to sell or tear it’s walls down
the family all voted to keep it around
No tractor is plowing,no cows in the fields
land sitting idle, where crops brought in yields
I go there to sit, on the hill cross the way
to look at the old barn that still stands today.
I picture the children, at play on the farm
Helping their father put hay in that barn..
i picture a woman with  canning jars full
harvesting  her garden,warming her soul.
I picture the house, that fell to the ground
and wonder what happened how it fell down
with  memories tucked in her walls and floors
with all the times going in and out her doors
I’m sure it was sad when it fell to the ground
she took a lot with her when she went down
now A Barn sad and lonesome sits on that hill
holding on to  the Memories now silent and still..
of laughter and work,and all of the charm
that make up the memories of life on a farm..