•April 18, 2014 • 4 Comments

I wonder why they call them bugs?
It does so bother me
For many times I’ve taken time
To take the time to see.
There’s beauty in a butterfly
Lightening  bugs amuse
Determinations in the ant
Caterpillars confuse
Bees are busy all the time
Lady bugs bring good luck
Crickets are the noisy ones
And worms are just plain yuck.

Yet, do we not have beauty?
can we not amuse?
Have we not determination
& do we not confuse?
Are we not busy all the time
To bring about good luck?
Do we not have our noisy ones
And those that’s just plain Yuck?

So as for those who scream and say
“Get that bug away from me”
I think it’s time you took the time
To take the time to see….


•April 4, 2014 • Leave a Comment


The old bus
put to rest
in a field
down a gravel road…
seemed a reminder..
That yes
I was young
once upon a time….
It  reminded me
of bell bottom’s
and mini skirts..
tight jeans
Ricky Nelson
and Bruce Springsteen…..
It reminded me
of songs that spoke
of war ending….
days of peace signs
flower power
and free love……

picture and poem by connetta jean

Looking For Spring…

•March 30, 2014 • Leave a Comment


It was late in the evening
a cold winter day.
I was searching for spring
But she felt months away..

The ice on the trees
seemed to sparkle and play
When the clouds sent a blue heart
and the heart seemed to say..

“spring is just resting
She can’t visit today..
So enjoy winter pictures
they’ll soon fade away..”

It seemed like a message
A hint of spring, saying “hey”
“I’m with Sunshine ( a blue heart)
tucked in white clouds  Okay??……”

Goodbye Old Man….

•March 23, 2014 • Leave a Comment


March seems to be
marching away.
The stay was short.
Sort of like a bridge
From winter to spring..
The Old man kept
the tiny seeds safe
Neith warm blankets
Of cold winter snow..
Their sprouting ya know
I ‘ve been watching.
April brings rain.
Poets wrote about that
long long ago.
April is great ya know?
It has to rain
And rain
and rain..
Mother nature
(is nursing )
New life is drinking.
Father time has stirred.
things are changing..
Springs his child too
(it always takes 2)
with the rain
he brings thunder
And lightning
Winds that howl..
It’s not all about
Flowers and buds..
Spring and Jack frost
Are dancing
on cold late night mornings
winter has given in
to the warmth of spring.
The Old man knows
its time to go..
His time is done.
Jack is back..
and April showers
do indeed
Bring  May Flowers.
March is when
winter and spring
say goodbye.

Dancing with Spring..

•March 22, 2014 • Leave a Comment
Just Yesterday I felt like I could scream,
Had that “Cabin Fever” going crazy thing,
When one more day with out sunshine
Was weighing heavy on my mind.
Winter lost it’s beauty in my eye
I was praying God let  that Season die.
As I sat there Angry feeling sick inside..
the thought came to me “do not hide”
I opened the curtains and saw the light
Rain had washed  away winter over night..
I felt a sadness deep inside
I ‘d  prayed for winter to subside..
I saw no trace of  Him around
And the silence seemed to change its sound.
Bird were singing in the trees
Spring was dancing on the breeze..
I felt a need to go and find
A little bit of Winter time
Just to say  I’ll see you when
You come back around again..
Out the door I went  to walk around
and saw new life bursting from the ground.
Tiny buds on shrubs and trees
marking  time when winter leaves..
Yes March  is when Spring begins
(her and Jack  are “special ” friends)
He will court her nightly  a month (or 2)
& Before his time with spring is trough
He’ll leave her drops of  morning dew
frost that sparkles just like diamonds do..
But she loves  the Sun,(Sol has her heart)
someday they too will dance a lot….
Jack Frost will hang on as long as he can
( And Spring knows Sol is  “Summer’s  Man”).
She’s here to work and do her thing
Mother Nature  really counts on spring..


•March 19, 2014 • 3 Comments


Sandy and Sundays…

•March 10, 2014 • 2 Comments


On Sunday mornings
(weather permitting)
A middle-aged woman
called Sandy
walks the gravel road
to the old church..
she brings
a notebook
& a candle..
she believes
the old church walls
listens to her prayers.
She lights the candle
in faith…
Trusting it’s light
to lead the way
for loved ones past
( and Angels)
to find her..
the old walls seem
to welcome her prayers.
there are no people.
there  are no pews.
just Sandy
and a candle burning..
she writes prayers
and folds then neatly
hiding them in the walls
and  tiny cracks
in the wooden floors…
Knowing Angels
will find them
and take them to God…..

 © copyright  connetta


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