Connie A. Slagle: I am 38 years old. Born and raised in a small town in Missouri, 10 miles north of Kansas City. I am a Licensed Practical Nurse. My writings are inspired by feelings and emotions from within myself and those expressed to me by others.




Mom

Mom was always there
If ever I fell
A kiss to scraped knee
Made it immediately well

She sees through a fib
By my facial expression
Then patiently waits to hear
The truth by confession

Mom knows my thoughts
Long before I do
Leaving me to wonder
If I left a clue

Looking in the mirror
Amazed by what I see
A picture perfect reflection
Of my dear mom in me


Copyright 1999 by Connie A Slagle




A Fathers Love

A fathers love
Every beings needy must
To live life without him
Makes it difficult to trust

With him at your side
You're secure and content
Everlasting love always
From a man heaven sent

For those of you lacking
An earthly fathers love
You will forever have one
In our God above


Copyright 1999 by Connie A Slagle




A Mothers Love

Every living being
Deserves a mothers
For some a blessing missed
By Gods will above

Though I know not why
In the end I will see
His reason for taking earthly
Mothers love from me

Respect mother always
And return love too
For those who have her
Be thankful you do


Copyright 1999 by Connie A Slagle




Both up in age
Yet no one can tell
Health and mind of a youth
They get along well

She still loves to cook
He never dreading to mow
Each continues to maintain
Loves marital glow

We as their children
Are fortunate to be
Born of this union
God's angels oversee

Mom and Dad


Dad with a memory
Much sharper than mine
Moms dinner table
The finest to dine

Watching the birds
They tend to each day
Squirrels fear not to approach
Their homes Godly ray

Stocking the pond
Favorite pass time to fish
This life of contentment
Is every mans wish

Mom is so proud
Having a husband so wise
When it comes to the best
He has earned first prize

Dad ever so thankful
To be blessed in life
Traveling Gods path
With a loving wife


Copyright 2000 by Connie A. Slagle




Holiday

A simple reminder of
Loved ones not being here
Alone in pure silence
Remembering those so dear

Festivities we used to enjoy
Together each holiday
Unable to celebrate now
In any other way

I pray for time to pass
As a holiday comes round
Spilling memories from my mind
Of ties no longer found

On these special days
Is another chance to see
How others take for granted
What I only wish could be


Copyright 2000 by Connie A. Slagle




Deadly Schoolyard Game

We argue man has rights
To carry weapons of assault
Yet shocked with disbelief
When facing the end result

Far back in times past
A fight meant throwing of rocks
Safe and secure in our homes
No need for deadbolt locks

Subjecting kids to violence
In everyday life they see
Expressing anger with guns
Is the way it's supposed to be

Suffering loss of many lives
Society must take blame
We are wholly responsible for
The deadly schoolyard game


Copyright 2000 by Connie A. Slagle




The Creator

None better than others
All are the same
Created by him
>From dust man came

Purity and good
Souls content never sad
A world free of evil
Is the intention God had

The image of man
A body and face
Somehow over time
Divided by race

He won't leave us here
To worship day seven
There's a much safer place
With our creator in heaven


Copyright 2000 by Connie A. Slagle