and Phone Numbers Link
Tulips - April, 2004
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WAITING AND SURVIVING I waited for love and waited for you I waited for life and what we would do I waited to share the love we would give I waited for you and I waited to live. When you first loved me I finally knew joy You gave me the safety I'd missed as a boy You came with the sun but also brought rain You came with the pleasure but also brought pain And then when you left - I died inside You left what we had for your reasons of pride You left all the caring I'd always shown You left me more pain than I'd ever known. When I survived the death that you gave I survived how you left - just missing the grave I survived all your lies and what was to be I survived loving you - my old fantasy. October 22, 2007 by Erick Conard |
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YOUR SMILING HEART I often think of your caring ways, Of your smiling eyes and your loving gaze. And I smile inside as I think of you; Of your smiling heart and the love we grew. Into my life, great hope you did bring, You brought to me love, you brought to me spring. You brought with this hope a familiar fear. Is it safe to trust you'll always be here? Better it is to enjoy today Than fear tomorrow and what you might say. Better to relish what life chose to give Than to hide and to fear and forget how to live. April 3, 1995 by Erick Conard |
Lucky Hit's Tawny Autumn in 2001
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Rafter B Saddle Shop, Colorado City , Texas
in 2001
Windmills in the Mist, November 1, 2008 
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Playing games and saying things We never meant to say. Cold looks behind our books And fights throughout the day. All this pain, and in love's name, With tears behind our walls. Bitter words and I heards, Echo among the halls. I want to start; I'll do my part. Let's stop the way we fight. I love you;You love me too. Enough of games tonight. by Erick James Conard November 11, 1981 |
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Trees at Sunset at Lucky Hit Ranch in 2001 Such a simple thing you said, As we lay resting on the bed. The thing you said was, "I love you." I know you do; I love you too. This you whispered as you slept, And in my heart those words I kept; A whisper lovely in the night With words from you that sounded right. From the things that I have said You know that others shared my bed; And though I've been with quite a few, The thing I want is love from you. Always know that I love you More than all those that I once knew; And know I need for you to see, My need for you to love just me. by Erick James Conard December 12, 1978 |
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Sunset in the Hill Country
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A DAY'S END I walked out along the building's edge And stood, thinking back over my day. It had been warm earlier. Now, like summer's end, A cool breeze had blown up. -------------------------------------------------- And I was chilled. It was hard to look back upon the beauty of the day. Hard, I suppose, because it had been something wonderful, Something worth living for. But once lived, It was impossible to live without. -------------------------------------------------- And the rain began to fall. Dark clouds, more threatening than the sky's, filled my horizons. I turned my eyes inward, and to the past, Hoping only to recapture the fullness of the morning. And finding only shattered remnants. -------------------------------------------------- And I cried at the end. God--if there is a God--why do you take away things most precious, And leave a hopeless, lost feeling sitting on broken souls? Why give hope and the promise of happiness; why soften hearts On a beautiful day, and then only take away? -------------------------------------------------- And the wind whistled in my ears. by Erick James Conard October 1971 |
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My poetry doesn't allow you to see my happy side, and I have one!
When I am happy I want to go out and enjoy my life, not write poetry. Only
when I am sad or contemplative do I feel compelled to write poetry.
Poetry is the method I use to reach the feelings I'm having that are
difficult for me to understand. I hope you enjoyed the poems I placed here. Below is a link to my father's religious oriented poetry page if you'd like to read some of his poetry.  To Link to Frank Conard Poetry Page Click Here
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Jessie Frank Conard's Barber Shop in Granada, Colorado Painted by his
Daughter, Hazel Fern Conard Burns, a sister to Frank W A Conard, her younger
brother. Jessie Frank Conard is Erick Conard's
Grandfather through Erick's father, Frank W A Conard.
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