A Matter Of Time
Time in a bottle;
sands of time
running out of time.
IF there is
a time to be born
and a time to die,
is there enough time
and for what?
Is time on my side;
is it friend
or enemy?
And why is it getting faster
while I am getting slower,
and
what is that
infernal ticking?
poem by Carolyn Brunelle
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
More I Want To Do
I clean and scrub
vacuum and mop;
it goes on and on
and never stops.
There’s laundry
and shopping,
meals to cook too,
bills to pay
and banking to do.
She can have the dust,
the maid I entrust,
with a chore
I can’t handle anymore,
'cause there's other things
I would much rather do
like write and blog
and post at Yahoo.
poem by Carolyn Brunelle
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No Eulogies For Life
Don't want any funeral,
viewings or floral wreaths,
no eulogies or readings
or statements of belief.
No need for weeping
from any who ever knew me;
nor attendance required
from those who only screwed me.
THIS mortal life is what I lay down
to rest here in this sod;
but all that makes me who I am
has returned back home to God.
poem by Carolyn Brunelle
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Purest Magic
I believe in magic.
I believe there is a magic
woven into hearts of any age.
It draws us to its bosom
each time we turn the page
to a new chapter in life;
invites our entry into a larger world.
That pure light of discovery is magic,
it stretches out toward the heavens
with an open mind and
connects us to God's universal magic
in us all.
poem by Carolyn Brunelle
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
It's A New World
Females had their expected place
one of submission, few choices
no dreams
beyond children and home.
Fifties females had no voice
but the children watched;
and the children grew
and knew there was more.
A matter of choice with a voice!
Any way this girl can shout it
stands as anthem to her place...
helping others to find the same grace.
poem by Carolyn Brunelle
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Crystal Clear Blue Eyes
He’s always had
crystal clear
blue eyes;
I always thought
somehow they represented
the clarity of his character.
Youth now faded
along with hair; teeth,
perhaps a bit of the sharpness
of memory,
but
behind those eyes
there still lies
a genuine heart,
a man of strength,
honesty; good character.
Maybe it’s true after all,
that the eyes
are the window
of the soul.
poem by Carolyn Brunelle
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Growin' Old
Old hearts long enter twined
relax and share their evening wine
laugh and reminisce about younger days.
Kids all grown, well on their way,
retirement has grown on us;
we're learning to play and
love our vacations by the sea.
How long we can keep it all up
have such times as these, you and me
who knows! ... but hang on baby
for the ride's all downhill,
and growin' old with you
is its own special thrill.
poem by Carolyn Brunelle
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Acrostic (Wintry Days)
Wind in the trees releases the leaves
invites them to fly onto rooftops, cling to the eaves.
Nostalgia hangs in the air, neighbors burn
their quickly raked mounds; try to beat the
rain predicted. Admiring the colors of
yesterday blanketing my yard, the
darkening skies overhead sends a chill that
awakens me to my shivering senses. I retreat and
yield to the need for warmth;
snuggle by a glowing fire as rain arrives.
poem by Carolyn Brunelle
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Feels The Same
Dark and windy
cold and wet,
our winter isn’t
finished quite yet.
A new year blowin’ in
brings gloomy predictions;
yesterday’s soggy bogs have
become quagmires we must
deal with today.
He will save us, we hope; we pray
we are able to save ourselves.
Ominous weather brews;
no one has any clues
where it’s all really headed.
So hang on and hang tough,
the climate of the economy is
as bleak as the weather outside.
poem by Carolyn Brunelle
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
ACROSTIC (Winter Blues)
W hen all outdoor interest has faded,
I am stuck inside my refuge from the storms in
n eed of mental stimulation. So I
t ry to stay busy;
e ven tackle those postponed projects that
r equire time I would never give in summer.
B elieve me, staying focused is the answer. If you want to
l ose seasonal doldroms, you must
u nleash your own creativity and
e liminate any idle complaint
s o you can overcome the onset of winter blues.
poem by Carolyn Brunelle
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!