Biography of Hazel Connelly
I started writing poems around 2005 but only did a handful. When I retired I wrote a few more and will carry on writing poems, I have also wrote a couple of short stories. I have a web site if you would care to look. You can leave comments on my site, your email is private and is deleted after leaving your comment.
I have read my poems in Melborne Australia and in Cork Ireland and numerous places in the UK.
Hazel Connelly Poems
Before my eyes brilliant colour, perfection Dancing gracefully in every direction, The world of trees, the art of nature Are simple reasons for a painter.
The hen night is a girls night out Time for them all to bond and shout They say all they have to say Prior to the wedding day.
Sexy At Sixty
I was fit and feisty at fifty It was no big deal Because that's how half a century Is supposed to feel.
A slumberous sense of seclusion As sleep is drifting from my eyes, I look upon the translucent shade of the morning dew While I, moving slowly do arise.
The attic holds such fascination I climb the ladder in trepidation, The attic is a time machine Most things hidden and unseen,
An Autumn Day
Floating all night on waves of clouds Searching for what life enshrouds Woke in the morning to the misty dew Lost in thought of the day anew.
I've won a day at the races For me and my friend Pat Maguire Posh frocks and new hats That's what we require.
Two Hearts Beating As One
Magical moments of pure sweet passion Flutters within my hearts devotion Two hearts beating they know it's just right The beat grows stronger then fades in the night.
The feeling of peace longing for more Watching reflections move with the flow The water ripples beneath my toes And of this place no one knows.
Bird In A Cage
How much I feel for the poor things Unable to fly or spread their wings, Each day with the same view Sad and lonely nothing to do.
Class Of 64
I saw an ad in the local paper A reunion for the class of 64 I thought I wouldn't mind going I've never been to one before
The weeks after Christmas I searched through the house for something to fit me But couldn't find a blouse.
I was a of a hippy for a while With chants of make love not war A flower child wanting to be free And didn't like the law.
Won't get me up there, can't get me to try, Looking down a ravine, from a mile up in the sky, What's heady for some, is nothing for another A bit of bungee jumping, said my big brother.
Rose Maloney sits in her chair
The room is dim
The floor is bare
And life for Rose is very grim.
Rose takes in sewing
It helps to pay the bills
Though it pays a pittance
For her meagre skills.