Patsy Jewell Hudson, Florida

Patsy has been writing poems since she was twelve years old, some of which she has added music to. She is a retired nurse, and she likes arts and crafts, music, writing stories and poems. Her poetry has been published in the National Library of Poetry. She recently finished a manuscript which has been accepted, but not yet published. Her poems range from comical to whimsical to serious.

Rain Falling Well, I'm listening to the pitter-patter of the rain Alone in the middle of the night My ol'heart begins to feel the pain Of missing you with all my might But your not here to share my love So I'll just face this pain alone... And listen to the rain falling from above And face the fact that you are gone Rain falling from above... Rain falling for my love... Rain falling from the skies... And rain falling from my eyes. So I'm listening to the pitter-patter of the rain And listening to how sad it sounds The rain's only an indication of my pain And eternal loneliness I've found.

Unfinished I wrote a letter I didn't send I broke a heart I couldn't mend There was a call I didn't make There was a message I didn't take There was a song I didn't write I almost did...but didn't fight There's dirty dishes I didn't wash I brushed my teeth but didn't floss I stepped out and forgot what for Started back in but locked the door Reached for my key but it wasn't there I looked down, My God, I'm bare Ran to the back door and let myself in The way I live is a down right sin Should make some coffee but I'm too lazy Sometimes I drive myself out and out crazy.

My Little Angel Face A child was born one summer night with golden hair and eyes so bright We dressed her in velvet, ribbon and lace cause she was our little Angel face. At two years old she made us laugh trying to sing with the phonograph The little things she'd say and do brought tears of joy, like the mornin'dew At ten years old she was such a delight Angel face...in a verbal fight. Her voice was soft but expressive, you see, and I thanked God He gave her to me At twenty-two she met a young man... After a while, he asked for her hand A child was born one winter's night hair of gold and eyes so bright As her grandma, I feel so proud... In reverence, I admire what God's allowed We dress her in velvet, ribbon and lace... cause she's out little Angel face.

All poems Copyright © 1997 Patsy Jewell. All rights reserved.