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Bill Connell Poem
I don't know where I'm goin',
... not sure where I've been.
This world's got me spinnin'
round and round and when
I think I've got it figured,
and finally understand,
The clouds start a formin'.
I'm lost in Wonderland.
Copyright © Bill Connell | Year Posted 2022
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Bill Connell Poem
Here I lie in Ramona,
sick with the virus Corona.
I feel like hell
and cannot smell,
but glad I don't have pneumonia.
In five days' time, I finally felt fine:
Free from the virus Corona.
Then again it hit,
now I'm sick as Schmidt,
as I lie in bed in Ramona.
Copyright © Bill Connell | Year Posted 2022
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Bill Connell Poem
Another day has slipped away,
the Sun has come and gone.
And in the night I hope I might,
enjoy a new day's dawn.
The month of May has slipped away,
the Moon has come and gone.
Though having fun in the Summer Sun,
for another Spring I long.
Yet robins sing and children dream,
as the Sun begins to rise.
One life ends, while another begins,
and the fledgling finally flies.
Then one day they flew away,
no more robins sing.
Now songless trees lose their leaves,
'till robins return in Spring.
It's been a year since we last past here
as Earth orbits the Sun.
'Twas a year with cheers and occasional tears,
but another Spring has come.
Now robins sing and plants grow green
and humming birds grace the sky.
Most Winter kill will surely heal
and fledglings soon will fly.
Copyright © Bill Connell | Year Posted 2022
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Bill Connell Poem
I don't want to get drunk anymore.
These hangovers I truly deplore.
Yet as the sun goes down
you know where I'm bound:
goin' drinkin' just like before.
I don't want to get drunk anymore.
My behavior is hard to ignore.
Friends say it ain't fittin'
so tonight I'm quittin'
and walkin' out this barroom door.
I don't want to get drunk anymore.
Yet I'm back here just like before
and I'm writin' this poem
for my lover at home
and hopin' she don't lock the door.
You know I'll get drunk evermore
and be the lush most abhor.
There's no use resistin'
'cause you know that I'm fixin'
to go drinkin' just like before.
Copyright © Bill Connell | Year Posted 2022
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Bill Connell Poem
Journey fourth I know not where,
perhaps I'll know when I get there.
From purple mountains to shining sea,
this ribbon of highway beckons me,
young and wild and feelin' free.
There's boundless beauty to adore,
but now I see the distant shore.
I journey now within my soul,
mysteries of life I'd like to know,
old and tired and movin' slow.
Copyright © Bill Connell | Year Posted 2022
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Bill Connell Poem
Perhaps it's time to share our rhymes
with neighbors, family and friends.
Our tales of dogs and enchanted frogs
and other odds and ends.
We'll speak in rhymes of fun-filled times
with spirits free as the wind.
Where painted clowns ensured no frowns
and rainbows never end.
It seems the rhymes soothe our minds
as words like rivers flow.
Our thoughts sail high in cloudless skies
over mountains white with snow.
Copyright © Bill Connell | Year Posted 2022
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