Carolyn Brunelle Poems

How old is too old
To have purpose
In the world?
...

Sorrows of the soul must be greived to fade
paying prices forever only leaves a life in shame.
The choice is clear, but you hold too dear
to your brokenness and its familiar chains.
...

Painstakingly, she handweaves grass
With bits of turquoise, river rocks, quartz;
An amazing artistry, a creation
Rich in color, texture; design.
...

If these dreams
and silent wishes
that I pray
come true,
...

There’s never enough time
To overcome the shadow
Of what has become inevitable.
Veiled within this loving heart;
...

An absence
a vacancy;
an empty hole
where nothing
...

The whirring blades
of an old ceiling fan
brings soothing night air
to my easy chair...
...

God is Greater
than our losses,
our needs, our sorrows.
In his grace
...

Stop them before they breed
the bad writers, bad spellers;
the ignorant who cannot read
much less comprehend the need
...