Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Blue skies, gentle rains

     Summer’s sun sweltering heat

Hot days – sticky nights.

© Chrissy Siggee – 2018

Archived in: Poetry Mix

From buds to blooms

colours so bright

heady scents and soft perfumes.

In spite their thorns

the pain they inflict

I love my roses.

Archived in 🦋 Poetry Mix

Rising, falling,
Gliding, flying.

Mantled in whispers of cloud,
Little white dove blissfully endowed.

Rising, falling,
Gliding, flying.

Softy embracing a heavenly tone,
Fly little white dove in skies unknown.

Rising, falling,
Gliding, flying.

Little white dove rise beyond the dance,
Through the power of a rhythmic trance.

© Chrissy Siggee

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

 colours of the evening sky

                  reveal the setting sun—

aromas of the sleepy garden

                  refresh my musty senses.

© Chrissy Siggee

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

From my book: Glimpses of His Glory

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

fading cries of restless birds         

                   linger in the cooling air—

quietness rests like a gentle hug.

© Chrissy Siggee

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

From my book:  Glimpses of His Glory

 Archived in: Poetry Mix

Sixty days she’d walked alone,
counting memories along the way.
She stumbled every now and then
but knew she couldn’t fall.
Her mind was full of images;
her heart was full of grief.
Too many nights alone,
many days that would not end.

Now she sits on her garden seat,
bought together one summer’s day.
Tears spilling down her cheeks
lost in a world without her Paul.
She knows her life must go on;
her mind still filled with disbelief.
With every breath it hurt,
alone, she cannot comprehend.

One day she’ll fall in love once more,
with a restored heart to give away.
For now, she lives with memories
that she cannot help recall.
His presence’s felt all around;
memories bring fruitless relief.
Worst of all, no doubt about it,
she had lost her very best friend.

Autumn leaves fall to the ground,
like her tears they do portray.
Her face stings with salty wetness—
she wipes them away it with assurance tall.
She’ll face new challenges boldly;
yet still, sorrow will not be brief.
Time will heal and life will go on,
and her mourning heart will mend.

© Chrissy Siggee – 2019

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

He gazed upward to the stars
counting sadness and his woes—
Deep wrinkles creased his brow,
he stands alone and ponders life.

It took one selfish moment
for his wealth to slip away—
Gambling is a fool’s game,
he wonders how he can regain.

Not one dollar he had left.
No income, no means to pay—
His house and car are gone,
He contemplates to end his life.

His wife, his son — he failed.
Nothing left to support them—
Life is not worth living!
He stepped out into the traffic…

Horns blast
Tyres skid
Thud

He stares upward into lights
muffled voices all around—
Deep wrinkles crossed his brow,
he marvels why he’s still alive.

It took one thoughtful moment…
Why would strangers save his life?
Two strong hands pulled him back,
he tried to rub a sore behind.

“Sir, not one bone did you break.
You hit the grass — not the truck—
There’s two people you should thank
and give them the trust they deserve.”

Wife and son approached his bed.
“Why did you return?” he asked—
“My debts won’t go away!”
He couldn’t bear to hurt them more.

Tears flowed
Misery
Dread

He gazed upward into hope
given now a second chance—
Deep wrinkles shaped his brow,
he reaches out and asks for help.

It took a year of meetings
learning how to take control—
Took years to pay his debts;
he found a job and stuck with it.

Desperate decisions made
difficult times they endured—
Early starts, long night shifts,
he finally forgave himself.

His wife and son stood by him,
nothing fancy they could own—
Probably never will.
But what they have is worth far more.

True love
Forgiveness
Trust

© Chrissy Siggee 2019

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

I don’t care what people say
It’s time to look the other way.
If I want to write – I will
with or without a copyright.

Poems, fiction and mysteries,
for children and adults.
Whatever takes my fancy – oh yeah…
It’s what I like to do.

My grammar may not be perfect
and rhyme is not my forte
But whatever I write –
I write with all my heart.

Grandchildren love my nonsense,
Friends enjoy a jingle.
I only write for them and those
Who enjoy my writing most.

© Chrissy Siggee – 2018

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

There once was a fly called Mable,
whose life was quite unstable.
You see, she lived in Humpty Doo
where they loved their barbecues
but often drank flies in their booze.

Chrissy Siggee

(Note: Humpty Doo is a small town approximately 40 kms from Darwin, Northern Territory Australia)

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Cool breezes whip at my hair

Gentle waves ripple over my toes

Seagulls take to the air

and sea mist tickles my nose.

© Chrissy Siggee 2020

Archived in: Poetry Mix

A Man Called Rob

There once was a man called Rob,
who lived in the town of Dungog.
With daily doses of moonshine,
he couldn’t walk a straight line.
Sadly, he drowned in his grog.

Chrissy Siggee 2020

Note: Dungog is a town in New South Wales, Australia.

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

A camel that couldn’t blink,
had eyes that were yellowish pink
but being a smart fella,
he bought an umbrella
and married a lama in sync.

Chrissy Siggee 2020

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Archived in: Poetry Mix

There was a young man called Bill,

who lived in a town near Broken Hill.

He often dreamed of buying a yacht,

and thought he would name it Hotshot.

Instead, he inherited a windmill.

Chrissy Siggee 2020

Archived in: Poetry Mix

There once was a bear named Dwight,
who raided beehives by day
and licked his paws by night.
He ate so much his teeth fell out,
now he can only suck trout.

Chrissy Siggee 2020

Archived in 🦋 Poetry Mix

There once was a man called Rob,
who lived in the town of Dungog.
With daily doses of moonshine,
he couldn’t walk a straight line.
Sadly, he drowned in his grog.

Chrissy Siggee 2020

(Note: Dungog is a rural town near Maitland north of Sydney)

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

There once was a flea called Heather,
who really felt under the weather.
She went to see her pharmacist,
– known to most as a romanticist
and now they are living together.

Chrissy Siggee

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix