Connetta Jean Poems

Deep into winter
under blankets of snow..
Nature lays resting
taking time not to grow.
...

There was a time
when i loved
the mail man....
Much in the way
...

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.
...

HEROS..
...

On a late Autumn day
i was walking all alone
down a tiny country road
Not that far from home...
...

In A field in the Valley
Where once was a farm
surrounded by blue skies
Sits a old tattered Barn..
...

It was early September
a warm sunny day..
my five year old grandson
was busy at play..
...

Deep in the woods
on a tiny hill
overlooking a stream
I long ago found
...

The old Cabin door
reminded me
of slower days....
a time of sowing
...

Every year when spring gets near
It's the same old, same old thing.
Bugs come out and craw about
they lay in wait for spring.
...