Connie Marcum Wong

Connie Marcum Wong Poems

Pele's volcanic lava glows
In the evening’s twilight hour
With passion filled desire
Surging with her power.

Her music haunts me
in such a knowing way
it makes me weep
and causes my heart to ache.

Our cold crisp air augurs an early snow before Thanksgiving. I need to look for my warm fur-lined gloves. The snow tires are heaven knows where in our cluttered garage, but they must be searched for now not later, when frozen fumbling fingers complain loudly from the cold. Every year at this time, daydreams of warm weather on a tropic isle are floating through my mind.

floating blossoms drift
like snow in the tropic wind—

I never knew I’d be in heaven
In the autumn of my years;
Or that I’d be immerged
In the brilliant art of words,

Oh giver of life, you glorious Sun,
You instinctively know what must be done.
I bask in your warmth to gain energy;
Marvel how you raise up each plant and tree.

At Ben Bulben’s feet Sligo stands
The home of such creative hands

Where poet William Yeats did grow.

Ballet is poetry...
And both share in
The magical movement
That is defined as art.

Take notice of your hand.
Each finger moves separately.
Each finger is a different size,
Yet all belong to the same hand.

When the rains burst forth
from heaven's lofty heights,
Apollo deigns to repress his golden light.

Point of reference never came.
I waited eons just to see
The clever end of destiny.

Your glory touches
Silhouetted trees
Standing tall to embrace
Your scarlet sky.

To some, their youth was just sublime.
Then age crept up and over time
Their joy then faded with the years
As body changes led to fears.


I hear much joy in the music,
View great joy in the dance
Feel happiness in the laughter,
Soulful spirit in poetic romance.

Intention leads us to
spiritual revelations,
Serene contemplation
of becoming one

Oh let my soul flee
To the purple mountains
Where poetry breathes—
Where dawn's shadows

In solitude I dream tonight
And watch a moth in fevered flight.

It's drawn toward my quaint porch light

The familiar rhythm of the drums,
the beauty of the dance,
the haunting chants
are still whispered by the wind.

As eagle swoops at break of day,
Talons cling to wriggling prey.
Having hunted and found his quest
He soon returns to guard his nest.

An argentine sky
Adorns the woodlands
In a misty shroud.
As only slight remnants

T his great soul by the name of Steve Irwin
H as left this world doing what he loved most...
E nlightening us with the creatures of our earth. A

Connie Marcum Wong Biography

Connie continues to be the Web Mistress of a private poetry forum “Poetry for Thought” since October 1999. Her poetry has been in many publications, anthologies, magazines, and e-zines over the years. She published her first poetry chapbook’ Island Creations’ in 2005: http: // In 2007 ‘Heart Blossoms’ was published. http: // In December 2009 ‘A Poetry Bridge to All Nations’ was published By Lulu Enterprises, Inc. http: // Connie created the 'Constanza' poetry form in 2007. Connie was a Stewardess (Flight Attendant) for 34 years before her retirement July 2003 and she has traveled extensively in the U.S and abroad. She became an Aura Photographer in 1997, a certified Reiki Master/Teacher in 2002 and a Karuna Reiki Master/Teacher in 2003 and she volunteers at a local hospital administering Reiki on patients. Connie became an Aroma therapist in 1997. She also volunteers as an ASL interpreter for the deaf. She is the mother of three daughters, and one son. Connie has resided with her husband in Hawaii since 1980.)

The Best Poem Of Connie Marcum Wong

Pele, Goddess Of Fire

Pele's volcanic lava glows
In the evening’s twilight hour
With passion filled desire
Surging with her power.

She triumphs over man
As she adds unto the land.
Apathetic, she reaches out to claim
Those who dare touch her fiery hand.

Gracefully she moves, quietly she creeps
On her burning path toward the sea.
Wanting, all she covers she keeps...
Pele's steamy kisses are saved for the sea.

Sorrow has followed Pele
All throughout her years.
She leaves behind her sadness
In her tiny ebony tears.

Her majesty and wonder
Leave me breathless in her sight.
I am drawn toward her beauty
And consumed by her delight!

Connie Marcum Wong Comments

Carissa decker 07 September 2020

i love your poetry. Connie

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