Connie Marcum Wong
Biography of Connie Marcum Wong
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:
In 2007 ‘Heart Blossoms’ was published.
In December 2009 ‘A Poetry Bridge to All Nations’ was published By Lulu Enterprises, Inc.
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.
Connie Marcum Wong's Works:
'Island Creations' and 'Heart Blossoms' by Shadows Ink publications. 'A Poetry Bridge to All Nations'
A Poetry for Thought Member Collection Lulu Enterprises, Inc.
Connie Marcum Wong Poems
Pele, Goddess Of Fire
Pele's volcanic lava glows In the evening’s twilight hour With passion filled desire Surging with her power.
Ode To Nature
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.
First Snow (Haibun)
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,
Erin Go Bragh
At Ben Bulben’s feet Sligo stands The home of such creative hands Where poet William Yeats did grow.
Ballet Is Poetry
Ballet is poetry... And both share in The magical movement That is defined as art.
Point of reference never came. I waited eons just to see The clever end of destiny.
Amber Autumn (Sonnet)
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.
Your glory touches Silhouetted trees Standing tall to embrace Your scarlet sky.
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.
The Islands Of Hawaii
The familiar rhythm of the drums, the beauty of the dance, the haunting chants are still whispered by the wind.
In solitude I dream tonight And watch a moth in fevered flight. It's drawn toward my quaint porch light
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.
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.
Shimmering cliffs that brightly shine
From rust colored monolith's high,
Create golden treasures
Within the sunset sky.
The smell of autumn's in the air;