connie too Original photo courtesy connie carlson SKIPPING YOUTH by connie carlson Too few years are given to boys ere gravity takes its toll. Too few games and too few toys before seriousness and goals press down upon their shoulders thin, and keep their feet earth bound. Transforming to solemn smiles those grins, pressing them toward the ground. The years are short, the years are few that let them move with ease, before they're set in gravity's glue youth wafts away with the breeze. Too few years to hop and skip, to face the sun with glee. Too soon they are held in gravity's grip and they know they can fall from trees.   Original photo courtesy connie DEATH OF CREATION by connie carlson As man crept out of the briny ooze and learned to walk erect, he quickly began to ponder and muse. His surroundings he began to inspect. By the greatness was confounded. Wondered whence he came. Invented God to be astounded and have someone to blame. Looked not back toward the sea, breathed he now heavy air. Created locks to match his keys, traded thought for prayer. Instincts soon he did discard, his beginnings he set aside. From Nature by his own mind barred, He invented death and died.  Original photo courtesy connie carlson DELIGHT by connie carlson (A poem for my grand-daughter, Hannah Proffit) There was no smile upon my face no cause at all for glee. No one dared even try to chase this awful mood from me. Then I heard a tinkling sound at first cared not to know. It didn't leave, and soon I found I simply had to go. I had to see with my own eyes what caused the happy ring and as I neared I realized what pleasure it did bring. My face had lost its awful gloom a smile on my lips wiggled. I saw at once there in the room, the reason. Hannah giggled. More Connie Back to Connie's Page Contact the Author ...Lagniappe
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