Magazine Posts

Why won't I draw
like I used to do?
This questions for me,
not meant for you.

I used a pencil,
seldom a pen,
drawing quite often,
alone in my den.
Faces of others,
from photos
or a magazine.
Some thing that came
easy, it did seem.
To quit my drawing,
so many years ago.
Perhaps I just need
to restart the show.

"There will be no tomorrow"
is what she said.
It made no sense to me,
no thought in my head,
to help me now, to understand
the life we once had
is no longer grand,
for no matter the love
I give to she,
her memories are all gone
of our life's history.

I am going to work hard
to really try
being better to you;
not asking why.
I must stay close
by your side,
for the remaining time
of this ugly ride.

It is now 5 am,
which is all I will say.
My time for some sleep
has eroded away.

Driving in snow, is such a thrill,
except when you travel down hill.
Apply your brakes gently, or instead
your car becomes a 4 wheel sled.

Writing my words
for all you to read,
is great, especially for me.
It is the best therapy
and is what I need.
I sincerely hope, what you read
helps provide interest,
when the words do succeed.

Early in this life it was heartache.
Here we are now; it is heart break.
It isn't funny, for I now see,
You always were the best part of me.

When the cold, black, stillness of night,
slowly begins to ebb and to wane,
as the bright rays from the Sun,
push slowly through the window pane.
I awake slowly to a new light,
of a brand new, most wonderful day,
then I notice you've gone away.
Your body is still here with me,
but your mind has escaped and is free.
You will soon awake; there I'll be
to help you; you will see.

Serenity is thy name,
a loving approach to life,
is now your game.
Avoid all of the World's strife.
Run hard from the same
toward all the others,
who live with their fame.
Seek out while searching
for all who you see,
as I do adore you,
my sweet Serenity.

I go upstairs
to help her again.
She is my wife
and closest friend.

When you wobble, stumbling your way,
like a drunken sailor, on this new day.
Walk a straight line, if you can,
you aged picture of an old man.
My balance was better, way back then.
It would be great if it was the same again.

A beat,
a flutter,
caused a mutter
or a murmur,
as an old heart,
began its decline.
A shortness of breath
going up the stairs,
became a worry. Mine.
Congestive heart failure,
was the diagnosis
and medicines were prescribed.
Warfarin, to thin
the blood and avoid
the potential of a stroke.
My life changed, in the moment
as my health had declined,
but now I have found
there is no longer
a burden, as life
has returned to
a normal existence.
Well, sort of.