Weather Warning
I walked around the park yesterday. Twice.
Not a flake of snow or patch of ice.
But the sky looks ominous this morning.
The weather man has sounded his warning.
No traveling today was his advice.
Connie Peters' poems in progress
Weather Warning
I walked around the park yesterday. Twice.
Not a flake of snow or patch of ice.
But the sky looks ominous this morning.
The weather man has sounded his warning.
No traveling today was his advice.
Keystone Lake
An eastern sun shone on the lake
And made my sister’s silhouette.
It’s Keystone Lake where we once swam.
A place where we would not forget.
Sis three and I once walked around
That pretty lake, a couple miles.
Though we got sunburnt to a crisp,
It still brought forth a lot of smiles.
Childhood Home
In field, behind where home once was,
A deer stood perking leaf-like ears.
Nearby, the hill where we rode sleds.
We had such fun in childhood years.
It looked curiously at us,
As “remember whens,” we went through.
I snapped a pic, the deer ran off.
For that is what deer often do.
Shannon Creek in PA
I peered through the thick green foliage.
A trickle of water ran through.
Could this be the creek we spent hours
With whatever we’d find to do?
We built dams to make swimming holes,
Played tornadoes kicking our feet,
Caught minnows, frogs and let them go.
Those summer memories are sweet.
If You Knew My Family
If you knew my family
of my childhood,
you’d remember
a little red-haired girl
making her way across
an ear of corn on the cob
and dinging at the end
like an old typewriter,
one of my favorite
memories of my third Sis.
If You are the Only One
If you are the only one
who likes sweet potatoes,
wrap one in plastic wrap.
Microwave a few minutes.
Forget the brown sugar,
marshmallows, whip cream,
pecans, any of that stuff.
A sweet potato is great plain.
If You are Invited
If you are invited over for Thanksgiving
and you take a green bean casserole,
and your daughter tries to snitch some
before it’s time to eat,
don’t scold your child by saying,
“Don’t do that,
it’s the best thing on the table,”
(insulting your hostess)
like my friend once did,
and I still have to choose to forgive her
every time I think about it.