Hi! My name is Peggy, Welcome to my special place.

My Poems

If I could take the hurt and pain and transfer it to hate and blame- If from my fingers flames would soar those who have hurt me would exist no more If I could stop from wondering why then plan and deliberate to destroy Could I stop the tear I cry? Where did this limitless forgiveness originate? Why am I unable to hate? Why can't I seek revenge and deliver strife? Does this personality I possess have the ability to change? Or is it too molded to rearrange? If this very second God would grant a day's worth of time to get even- I know in my heart I'd let the time pass; for the taste of ashes on my tongue, express songs of hells which are yet unsung. Peggy McConnell

You Could Embroider My Life

If you were an artisan, picking up your silver needle and floss The talent in your nimble fingers could not embroider my life. If you were a potter, picking up your clay at your wheel The skill in your sensitive hands could not mold a vessel of my life If you were a painter, picking up your brushes and watercolor palette, The creativity in your soul Could not paint my life. If you were an old woman, picking up your patchwork pieces and worn needle, The wisdom of your years, the love in your heart could sew a patchwork quilt of my life. Peggy McConnell-Dobbins  June 21, 1989

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws