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Best Poems Written by Dallas Connery

Below are the all-time best Dallas Connery poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Life

She sat alone on the wall
that bordered her life
and her property, her call
not minding the silence
she felt most free to not fall

No one was likely to come along
she inhaled every essence as it was
exhaled it as a song,
even when she questioned
where she truly belonged.

On the stone built edge of wonder
she tossed off her shoes
and there, gave up all her blunders
that might someday rend her
but for now just the rain and thunder

Was present to marvel over.

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Change

Like a blade, a chill finds its way,
slicing through a closed window
portending a season approaching
as a flock rests during migration
filling a skeletal tree.
From a distance looking like 
breeze tossed leaves
then take flight seeking
warmer climes, darkening momentarily
an otherwise daylight sky,
taking with them
a sense of serenity.

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Just a Someday Thought

One day you'll find this,
 but don't stress over times
 we didn't truly miss

 when childhood joy had its place on a beach
 as the little ones played
 within yet beyond our reach

 and a kiss was more than just that
 sand and sun as the girls picked,
 came running, proclaiming when they sat

 with treasures, bartered, trading, elated
 it was just a few moments in time
 but so joyfully allowed, created.

 They flew with gulls, as if they'd never fall
 with strong wings, used driftwood to play
 as pirates, built fragile castles, too tall,

 swam diving and rising gasping
 innocently carefree
 surely you recall in some grasping

 bragged over, collected shells,
 at home again, Bath for all
 washing away salt spray smells.

 finding, days later, tucked into pails
 laughter floating on those breezes,
 images etched into what is so frail.

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Dark Horizon

Towing a trailer at night
weaving east over I-10, 
west Texas plains
from Albuquerque, racing
to leave behind hard driven rain
I must have been insane?  
Wipers hardly swiping
the sheets, or rivulets
blown back and forth
across a desolate road,
no stopping, mind 
and determination popping,
demanding, keep going, 
home the goal
too often closing my eyes
to dangers presented, signs
Wildlife crossing,
eyes reflected in headlights 
it was all the same
all untamed, hours spent burning
asphalt, the humming of miles slipping
finding a pay phone calling
"I think I'm an hour away", told, 
"No stay,
I will come to find you."
He must have broken every law in the books
those who also wandered and wondered
late at night, gave me looks
as the waitress, told them
to leave me alone to cry, but hugged
me and brought me hot tea.

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Wild, Not Quite Free

It's call unique,the Elk
dissolves the morning calm
seeking its mate and new charge
all living at large
in winters woods.

Hunters hungry, saw the cow
the wind blew her way, she knew
stared, stressing, ushering
as her calf came
all lowered their rifles. 

"We will find other days and ways,"

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Candle

Strike a match 
that distracts 
but dictates
a reflective gaze.
Eyes, witness 
something profound
as the candle melts
pooling, cooling
until the wick
is no longer sustained.
Its flame flickers
then fades.

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A Form of Abuse

Once espoused, poetry the cause
now even when aroused
I listen to my muse and pause
if only to take a second look
wondering if I will revisit
as I might a favorite book.

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On the Eve

Bedtime came early on Christmas eve
"Ok girls", tucked in and kissed, "it's time."
Of course we couldn't sleep, no really big crime
we counted our wishes, and we really believed.

Next mornin we tried bein quite as a mouse
sneaked down to a dark room and a tree
kinda said together, "Oh my, oh me."
Course our squealin woke up the whole house.

Momma came down, turned the tree lights on
then dad stumbled in, wearin a Santa hat?
"Daddy, what the heck is that?"
"Oh Santa left it for me before he was gone."

We waited that year, for once tried behaving
but saw tags with other kids names,
felt puzzled, Ok this is some kinda game.
"No children your gifts are here, these are for saving."

Bundled up warm, "Momma where are we goin?"
Told, "Just wait, you will see soon, maybe it will give you a lift?"
The car was loaded with all of them mystery gifts
wind was howlin, snow was blowin.

Dad parked the car, we were all ushered inside
there was kids there, some cryin, some screamin
seemed no way they could be dreamin,
but when we brought in the gifts, there was no way to hide

the smiles on their faces lookin at tags,
each got a gift I'd long remember
it was the 25th day of that December
and each too were handed a bag

Just trinkets we saw, some of em ours?
Yowee we we're gonna ask a lotta questions
but on the way home we heard the suggestions
"You have much, they have nothing enjoyed in empty hours"


We remained quite on the ride, feelin left out
got some gifts we really enjoyed
games, dolls, some other toys
but less than what we thought Santa was about.

It was the year I started to think, is it dad, just not fat
and asked if they could rewrap all we got
go back to the shelter and give em the lot,
"Oh and dad, please wear yer Santa hat."

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A Journey

A journey taken

Paddle wielder, not so graceful a feather,
there is a delicate balance 
one must observe in a canoe
having to switch sides and currents
trying to control, nearly
an impossible goal, she stows the tool
letting her finger tips skim the river
as it takes her and every fantasy 
she has ever imagined.
Yes there are shrieks and frights
as the boat spins
too close to what she can't comprehend
and she closes her eyes
ending on a calm shoreline
pulling the vessel close,
kneeling down, she knew
she wasn't alone in that canoe.

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Ethereal Times

It was just a rope tied to a limb with a board, as a swing
we ran for position often, our challenge
pushing, racing, such a simple thing,

then

as momma told us both, "You best shoo."
even almost kind of pushed us out
"I'll call when my chores are through"

then

of course along the way were distractions
you know the kind, flowers and butterfly's
and we screamed joyfully in our reactions

then

In the feel of it all we never thought of restrictions
free to do anything, how silly it seems 
in what we didn't know as derelictions

then

when as young adults we went again
as if to enjoy, recapture those things
the swing had fallen away from the then

becoming part of the now.