Thursday, August 13, 2020

Taking a Break

 Taking a Break

Hello friends. After much consideration, I have decided to take a break from blogging. I haven't yet decided whether it will be a temporary or permanent break. I want to spend more time on other projects, so I am putting my blog on the back burner for now. 

Thank you to those of you who have visited and commented here and on my other blogs from the past. Many of you have become wonderful friends to me as well as readers of what I write. For those who might be interested or who want to stay in touch, I do have a Facebook page which you may follow at this link: https://www.facebook.com/conniebiltzwriter/  

Thursday, June 25, 2020

A Little Life Lesson


A Little Life Lesson

She is an inquisitive girl - not yet two,
full of energy, curiosity, and zip.
She likes to explore and investigate.
She's sweet and smart as a whip.


She plays a game outside, stacking plastic pots,
but her game suddenly comes to a stop,
when one brave, black ant marches out in front of her,
then climbs from the bottom of the stack to the top.


"Ant," she says solemnly, pointing it out to me.
"Ah, yes, I see it," I say to her, as she nods her head.
Giving the tiny creature proper recognition,
she knows that even the smallest life is important to be led.





Wednesday, May 6, 2020

Neighborhood Watch

Neighborhood Watch

"YAP, YAP, YAP, YAP, YAP!"

Our neighbor's dog
is a noisy, little ball of white fluff.
He bounces along
the length of the chain link fence
around his yard,
as if tossed by the wind.

"YAP, YAP, YAP, YAP, YAP!"

He barks at all passersby:
whether cars, kids, squirrels,
 other dogs, or butterflies.
His owner calls him Atticus.
We call him, That Yappycuss.
Like his namesake, 
he takes seriously his job to defend.

"YAP, YAP, YAP, YAP, YAP!"



Friday, April 10, 2020

Hope by Design


Hope by Design

Despite endless reports of doom,
the flowers have begun to bloom.
Dire warnings flit and fly,
but look, look--how blue the sky!

The experts say, "No need for panic."
Then they say, "It's a pandemic!"
"Wash your hands. Stay inside.
Home is the place where we should hide."

I envy the flowers in their glory.
In ignorant bliss, they live their story.
The sun, undaunted, returns to shine,
bringing hope by design.



Monday, February 17, 2020

Seagulls and Crows



Seagulls and Crows

Seagulls swoop down to the waves
and back up again,
soaring against a background 
of boundless blue skies,
and celebrating the sea breezes
with their joyous, rhythmic cries.

Crows perch in a palm tree by my window; 
complaining, bickering, and gossiping 
about the people down below.
The crows' voices grate and scrape
like rusty hinges on an old screen door.

When given a choice, 
what will you do,
squabble or soar?



You can hear the crows at the beginning of this short video.

Monday, January 20, 2020

The Exquisite Scene


The Exquisite Scene

It happened while we were sleeping,
slipping in during the dark of night.
Snow transformed the world outside--made it pristine.
Changed the landscape to black and white.

Now it's quiet and cold and clean
as far as one can see.
Layers of snowflakes muffle each lawn
and drape the branches of each tree.

Armed with shovels, brooms, and plows,
the first ones out to enjoy it
can't help but witness the grandeur, 
just before they set out to destroy it.

Clearing paths for others to walk.
Plowing roads to make room to drive.
Their clank and clang and clatter and scrape 
announce that winter has decided to arrive.

Soon the white will turn to gray,
the sparkle will turn to slush,
and the noise of the street will return
to drown out the peaceful hush.

Take in the glory while you can.
Commit to memory the exquisite scene.
Because as quick as snapping two fingers,
we will be back to the mundane routine.


Monday, November 11, 2019

Where the Pixies Play


Where the Pixies Play

In the meadow, under a pine, at the edge of the wood,
right at my feet, the yellow mushroom stood.
Nothing but an ordinary mushroom by day,
but at night, it's where the pixies play.
Fluttering about with the fireflies;
giggling, whispering, and batting their eyes;
they play hide and seek among the clover,
flitting about, under and over.
They frolic and dance with the other sprites,
whiling away the starlit nights.
When at last the sun begins to rise,
they rest their heads and close their eyes,
but they'll be back when the stars shine,
on the mushroom, in the meadow, under a pine, 
which looks so ordinary during the day,
but at night, it's where the pixies play.