Biography of Carolyn Brunelle
I'm 68 yrs. old, married 49 years to my high school sweetie. We are both military brats and grew up everywhere other than where we were born. Got old and retired and are now living in northern California (just north of Sacramento)
I love and enjoy my small family (my soulmate Hubby, our one Son, one Granddaughter, and one old kitty) and lots of hobbies and interests: my computer, writing, poetry, photography, Pinterest, cooking, the S.F. Giants Baseball games, movies and wine and being anywhere with my hubby. Come visit my webpage:
Carolyn Brunelle Poems
A Little Light
For everything a reason and a season under the sun; every puzzle has its answer that is not uniquely our own.
Another age old story seventeen years of nurturing yearns to be free.
Come into my open arms and I’ll chase away your fears, feed your empty aching need and dry up all your tears.
The Color Purple
You pretend you’re alright, laugh when you’re sad, hide your true feelings; never show if you’re mad.
Funny how the very ones who say they carry the light, also bear the responsibility for causing most of the pain in the world.
Everyone should care. No one should ignore a world so Vital and green; Inviting and teeming with life. Mother earth
A Birthday Without You
The gathering was wonderful; Laughter tasted great Mixed with wine in the palate; Birthdays are good reason to celebrate.
S earching and c ollecting data i n many varied ways to e xplore
In some force of nature He reaches for her Time and time again. And time after time
I Fought The Good Fight
Life is a matter of choices made at every fork in the road, and none made for an easy way to carry or lighten the load.
Got bright and sunny Went from cool to hot, Just when Spring was here Then it was not;
R estoration of 'united' states E very man had certain rights V isionaries all who knew O ld ways had to go. They
A Dream Come True
You sweat and worry About making the grade; If you can get this one done You’ve got it made.
The Higher Place
I’ve traveled a stony path
weeping and clawing my way
to high green pastures.
bits and pieces of myself
the baggage of a lifetime;
now tossed aside