Walking
Walking on a cold frosty morn
Gloves and scarf on me adorn.
Walking in the crisp fresh snow
Making my nose all aglow.
Walking up in the hills
Waterproofs on, to keep out the chills.
Walking down in the dales
Up in the sky see all the contrails.
Walking down along the field
Looking at what it has to yield.
Walking in the summer sun
When the day is nearly done.
Walking down the stony lane
Writing keeps me quite sane.
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poem by Hazel Connelly
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Muscle
I got a popeye muscle
Although I'm not a sailor man
And I don't eat much spinach
At least not out of a can.
My name is not Olive
It isn't Bluto either
I know instead of lifting
I should've used a lever.
My popeye muscle looks swell
Just like I've been working out
But it's just the one arm you see
Which leaves a little doubt.
And it may not be clear to you
This was my biggest ordeal
I did it with great fervour
And enthusiastic zeal.
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poem by Hazel Connelly
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Seasons
Spring, a symbol of rebirth
Starting another season on earth
New buds open to the sun
Now the spring has begun.
Summer once again is here
Sky is wonderful blue and clear
Growths of colour on display
That's a lovely summers day.
Autumn leaves go blowing by
Lifting high up to the sky
Soon they scatter without sound
Gently cascading to the ground.
Winter comes around with branches bare
A spiders web in the suns pale glare
Frost so cold that it burns
Awaiting 'till the spring returns.
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poem by Hazel Connelly
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Canvas
Before my eyes brilliant colour, perfection
Dancing gracefully in every direction,
The world of trees, the art of nature
Are simple reasons for a painter.
The power mother nature can release
Could make a painting, a masterpiece
A gallery of natures finest hues,
Enough to stir the most reluctant muse.
Should mother nature tutor me in art
My tree would show a living beating heart,
And should I save one single living tree
My canvas would inspire the world to see.
Red, orange, yellow, green and brown
Colours of beauty my brush would put down
Bright and vibrant Maple Red and Golden Oak
Living, breathing felt with every brush stroke..
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poem by Hazel Connelly
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Friends
I'm having a bad day
Do you know what I mean
So I'm gonna sit down, relax
Then turn on my screen
I'll talk to all my friends
Tell them about my day
They help when I'm down
Make my troubles fade away
They're always there for me
Whenever I feel blue
Though we've never met before
I know their friendships true.
We haven't been friends for long
But in this short time it seems
We've shared so many things
Our hopes, our fears, our dreams
We come from different lives
But we have a common bond
Now I'd like to say to all of you
I've grown so very fond
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poem by Hazel Connelly
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The Portal
I hesitantly walked through the portal
As it's light grew, encompassing me,
Not knowing what lay ahead
I was blinded and could not see.
My palms sweaty, my mind racing,
I walked trying to reach the end,
Moving 500 miles a minute
This I did not intend.
Those minutes were precious
The portal started to fade
To where was I heading?
Would I be dismayed?
Scanning for a planet,
A warming star, a cooling night,
I soared through the heavens
searching for the finite.
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poem by Hazel Connelly
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Rememberance Day
On remembrance day we honour all
Each gave their best enduring call
God bless each one for being there
All our service men did their share.
Soldiers young and soldiers old
Fought the war brave and bold
They fought in Air, Land and Sea
If not for them where would we be.
Some lived while others died
As they fought side by side
They fought many a day and night
Their mission sure their spirits bright.
The loved ones bore the greatest pain
So many thoughts will never wane
We're proud of all the forces who
Fought for the Red, White and Blue.
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poem by Hazel Connelly
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Awakening
A slumberous sense of seclusion
As sleep is drifting from my eyes,
I look upon the translucent shade of the morning dew
While I, moving slowly do arise.
Watching the rain dripping from the eaves
Silhouetted in gold from the rising sun,
My mind gradually awakening
Now a new day has begun.
Through dimly, dancing dawns first light,
With sound of the rains chime,
The horizon still not clear
Just sweet thoughts of a shadowy time.
A light gust of wind gently lifts
The dead and dying leaves
Settling softly upon the ground
As light as the morning breeze.
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poem by Hazel Connelly
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An Autumn Day
Floating all night on waves of clouds
Searching for what life enshrouds
Woke in the morning to the misty dew
Lost in thought of the day anew.
I gaze from the window onto the lawn
And engage my thoughts on the new dawn
The colours and signs of seasonal bliss
These are things you should not miss.
Autumn colours of red, brown and gold
The landscape before you do unfold
Trees burn bright against the sun
The afternoon is nearly done.
As the sun goes down the colours surround
Red, yellow, orange melt into the ground
Night time falls and the colours hue
Turning the sky to a deeper blue.
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poem by Hazel Connelly
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The Net
The net's a big headache
I need a bloke you see
I search and search for hours
But can't get one for free.
I bought myself a web cam
I thought I could chat and play
But there weren't any blokey blokes
Only the ones that were gay.
Hang on! Who's this?
It's a blokey figure
Reminds me of my granddad
But my granddad's thinner.
Says his name's Bertie
Asks if I'm into leather
Then he says I'm a bore
‘could've knocked me down with a feather.
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poem by Hazel Connelly
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