Magazine Posts

Loneliness
is now a
part of my life.
Remembering the time,
wanting to be alone.
Now I am.
This is no longer home.
A room without people,
oh, how it has grown
to a vacant space
unlike a home.

Please provide me the wisdom
I've forgotten or lost
to make the right decision
No matter the cost.

I live here alone
in this empty house.
My wife has moved
to a memory care place.
One life ruined, by despair
another life in shambles,
with a sign, Do Not Repair.
This is no longer the life
which I hoped it to be,
for the sadness of loss
has overtaken my reverie.
I am most thankful
for the life we had
but when memories flee,
leaving you, the only one
who recalls all the good,
when we were so young.

Far from Life's path,
far from the crowd,
to the edge of the World,
across the broad sea,
I search for you.
Long will I wander,
continuing to roam,
until I find thee,
wherever you've gone.
Searching the horizon,
until I can find,
the last memory
and restore your mind.

I am beginning to be
a Curmudgeon at heart.
A grumpy, lonely, old man
who prays for life's journey,
to live for awhile
and let me again see,
my true love's smile.

There are many words
stuck in my head,
encumbered by doubt
about events I've read.

Don't let the nay Sayers
climb up on your back.
Stick with the truth,
defend with the facts.

Is the story true?
I'd like to know,
Is there really gold
at the end of the Rainbow?

An olde fable, I do suppose,
so many of those, we've been told.
Providing incentives to look
for the missing Pot of Gold.

Believe not all stories,
which you may find bold.
Hard work with others,
you'll find your gold.

A bend in your elbow,
a bend in the river,
a bending of the rule,
nothing like this,
for a doddering old fool.

I can't write,
meaningful words
as a mental healing,
is now in play.
There's no satisfaction,
when I attempt to
explain my feelings,
day after day.

All the water, in the Sea,
along the coastal plain,
with odors of life now past,
rise from the Ocean floor,
softened with Winter rain.
Long were the days and nights,
as wind sang it's sweet sounds.
Walk the dunes with shortened stride,
sandy beach, smooth and slack,
resurfaced by an incoming tide.

"Of the countless things she has seen, read and learned about King’s theology and civil rights activism, Crawford details five of the countless aspects of his life that stand out" Read more