Now My Heart Must Sing

by Sandra Conner


I woke to face another day,
No glad expectancy,

For heavy disappointments were
Weighing down on me.

The day before had been so filled
With unsupportive words,
With problems piled four levels high,
And everywhere closed doors.

The friends I'd counted on were not;

They came and went like rain,

All so enwrapped in their own lives

They couldn't feel my pain.

It was just like so many days,

All running wearily,
So sad, with disappointments too,

All weighing down on me.

And though I knew I would survive,

That didn't soothe my heart,

For sorrow deep and troubles too
Brought a longing to depart.

But then to Jesus I did run;

I saw it in a dream:

I stood below a gentle hill,

All carpeted in green.

When I looked up and saw Him there,

He stood beneath a tree,

And waited, smiling patiently;

He'd been expecting me.

I ran but didn't feel the strain;

He grabbed me in His arms,

He wrapped them hard around me; held me

Strongly, safe and warm.

I'd never felt so light and free;
Engulfed with joy and rest;
No problem lingered to be weighed;

All I could feel was blessed.

And all the disappointments, though
So heavy they had been,

Took flight, and sadness too was gone,

Ev'ry conflict, ev'ry pain.

All threats and fears and torments sore,

All guilt, defeat, and shame –

In love so glowing and so strong,
All were dissolved away.

Then suddenly I saw a truth –

It caught me by surprise –

That Jesus' joy exceeded mine;

I saw it in His eyes.

I'd known He would accept me, that

He'd made a place for me,

But never had I even guessed

How happy He would be!

He was so thrilled to have me there,

He laughed so loud and strong,

That all things not of joy and life
Just vanished in joy's song.

And when I woke to this new day,

His laughter still did ring;

His arms still held me close and warm,

And now my heart must sing!

The Cycle

“To work, to try, to learn
Is not a simple thing.
My teacher, though, thinks learning
Comes on swift, effortless wings.

“I'm sure she never struggled
To get words to come out right.
Or understand their meanings;
Recognize them all on sight.

“She's prejudiced against me;
Doesn't like me above half;
Just wants to cause me trouble;
Wishes I weren't in her class.”

“I know how Peter struggles.
I've heard him heave the sighs.
I've seen his eyes drift out to rest
On azure-colored skies.

“He thinks I'm hard and unfair
When his homework's never done;
When I make him keep re-taking tests
Instead of having fun.

“He doesn't know I struggled once –
Knew the failure and the shame.
Has no idea the reason I teach
Is to save him from the same.”

The Heavens Declare

Behold the morning brings the message:

Jesus paid the total price.

And again at close of evening,

It is written in the sky.

Day to day with joy resounding,

Grace and mercy new supplied,

In the face of sin abounding,

All it's power at once denied.

Where the heavy heart and weary,

Shadowed by the awful curse,

Suffers pain and tumult daily,

Having life with God now lost,

There the sunrise, at day's birthing,

Spreads the scarlet of His blood,

And that same bold crimson bloodstain

Rules the sky at set of sun.

God proclaims the glad reminder

At the start and end of day:

Man can live with God forever;

With Christ's blood the price is paid.

© 1997 by Sandra Conner
Photo by R. L. Drieslein

The Writer Writes

by Sandra Conner

I think I'll write a poem …
Type, type, type …
Words, words, words …

'Twill have to be a story ...
Type, type, type ...
Words, words, words ...

No … I guess a novel …
Type, type, type …
Words, words, words …

A saga will be better …
Type, type, type …

Words, words, words …

A trilogy is called for …
Type, type, type …
Words, words, words …

My editor now reads it …
Delete, delete, delete …
Delete, delete, delete …

I have a two-line stanza.

© Sandra Conner

Longing For Them Now

by Sandra Conner

Bright flashes of blissful moments,
Fluttering pages of Christmas memories
Drifting through my mind.

Pages of memories of childhood beam
With living, expectant Christmas dreams.
Longing for them now.

Remembering how each page was able to ignite
My imagination, which brought each one to life.

Oh happy, happy days!
Bright daydreams and wishes,
Make-believing magic,
Found within the pages --
The Christmas catalogs.

© 2012 by Sandra Conner

Photo from Wishbookweb.com.  Visit the site
to check out nostalgic Christmas catalogs
that span 6 decades.

http://www.wishbookweb.com/

If I Could Reach The Face Of God

by Sandra Conner

If I could reach the face of God,
I'd plant a tender kiss.
I'd wrap my arms around His neck
In such a sweet embrace.

I'd whisper in His ear
The words of love my heart cannot contain.

Oh ...

If I could reach
To kiss the face of God.

© Sandra Conner

Well, I'll Be Blogged!
by Sandra Conner








I think I have a lot to say --
Too much to finish in one day.
If I record a daily log,
I'll have the skeleton of a total blog.

And if I flesh that skeleton out
And give it life, I have no doubt
Readers will gather round about
And greet each shining post with joyful shout.

I'll shock the timid, cheer the sad,
Enrage the liberal and made him mad,
And all I write, be it good or bad,
To cyberspace my own two cents will add.

© 2012 by Sandra Conner

Love On The Line

 I read about the "phone poem" challenge on "The Music In It" -- Adele Kenny's poetry blog -- and I decided to see what I could come up with.  As soon as I started thinking about the subject, I remembered reading the true story of a WWII sailor who had intended travelling to the midwest (while home on leave) to meet his girlfriend and propose marriage before he went back to duty.  A blizzard kept him from making it across the country, but through the kind ministrations of a romantic telephone operator (remember when we had real operators instead of computers?), he was able to convey his proposal and receive an answer.  This poem is based on that unique love story.

LOVE ON THE LINE

By Sandra Conner

I read about a Navy guy;
'Twas during World War II;
He felt that he was so in love
But one thing he could do.

He was on leave, New England way,
And running out of time,
Snowed in, he could not meet his love.
His only hope - a dime.

So in the pay-phone booth, he dialed
The zero. Faith was high.
He told his soulful story to
The operator, Vi.

He gave the name of his dear love,
St. Louis, her address,
And Vi said, “There's no promises,
But I will try my best.”

So hanging on the line out east
The sailor deeply sighed,
And waited with a pounding heart
Till he heard back from Vi.

“I have your party, sir,” she said,
Three minutes' worth of time,
“Three minutes!” cried the sailor,
“That isn't enough time!”

His darling's voice broke through the wire,
Her voice so light and thrilled,
“What great surprise, you're calling now.
I heard you're snowed in, Bill.”

“Yes, dear, and now I can't get there
Before my leave is through,
But there is something vital that
I have to say to you.

“You know I've loved you for a while;
And I have to know for sure --
But Vi broke in just then to say,
“We've lost connection, sir.”

“Oh, no!” he cried. “You've got to help!
I'm ready to propose!
I couldn't go back overseas
Unless I'm sure she knows!”

“I'll try again,” Vi said, but then
Back on the line, so sad,
“I just can't make connection, sir;
The weather is so bad.

“But I can hear your party, sir,
And it seems she can hear me.
If you'd want me to relay your words,
I'd do so happily.”

He heaved a sigh, wiped tear from eye,
And drew deep breath somehow.
“All right,” he said. “It'll have to do;
I need her answer now.”

Please say, “I'm so in love with you
That before I go to sea,

I'm asking you to be my wife;
Please say you'll marry me.”

So Vi relayed the message sweet;

He waited in a stew
'Till Vi came back online and said,

“She'd love to marry you!”

Now many years have come and gone,
The couple made their home,
And in every room the pride of place
Goes to the telephone.

© 2012 by Sandra Conner

Love's Freedom

by Sandra Conner

I turned to Love and said, “I must be free.”
And Love said, “Surely. Take your liberty.”

I asked, "In truth? You set me free to roam?"
Then Love replied, "Just please remember home."

And so I flew to north, south, east, and west.
And finally back to home I came to rest.

Then turned to Love and said, “You were so brave,
To let me try my wings. So much you gave.”

Love smiled and said, “Refusal to set you free
Would mean I loved, not you, but only me.”

© Sandra Conner

I Am A Raindrop
by Sandra Conner


I am a raindrop.
I'm looking for a place to plop.
I'm falling quickly and cannot stop.

I don't know where I'd like to be,
But I def'nitely don't want to land in the sea.

You see, if I were to land in the sea,
It would be so anti-climactic for me.

I would lose my personal identity;
Even I would no longer recognize me.

No, I must find someplace solid instead.
Perhaps on a daisy in a flower bed.

Or a plant so parched it's almost dead,
Or the page of a book that's being read.

I must decide as fast as I can.
I'm falling quickly toward some folks on the sand.

So many are out there just getting a tan.
Hello there, little bald-headed man.

His head sure was tempting, but then a breeze blew
And drove me off course; what am I to do?

Oh, I see it! I see it! My target's in view!
Get ready! Get ready! I'm landing on you!
Plop!

© 2011 Sandra Conner