Magazine Posts

Break away,
you beautiful one.
Leave me now,
my time is done.

Love was here,
now it's gone.
The words ring,
on and on.

At the end of the rainbow,
where dreams go to die,
it's not the pot of gold,
as fables infer or imply.
A place, a graveyard to show,
ideas, love, thoughts which vie
for resurrection or rebirth of life,
if you are willing to try.

I need some Sun
for these days so grey,
to brighten our lives,
warming our Souls
to enjoy our lives,
with family and friends.

Words spill from my head,
into a big sieve.
Some hard to understand,
some not to be believed.

When you are old
and play the game,
it is your voice's
echo, which will remain.
Words stick not
to your clothes,
but to memories,
in thoughts repose.
Repeat them now,
do not dispose.
All words are gone,
I must suppose.

May I build you a house,
full of all your dreams,
from the beginning
when your life began.
The support and help you received
over those early, life years,
to bolster your status,
while reducing your fears.
Build strong the foundation,
as only you can,
with the support of others,
family and your friends.

I long for the sunshine
in my true love's smile,
to lift up my spirits,
taking our life once again,
back to the edge
of a far away shore.

Early in the morning,
hours before the dawn,
when your sleep filled body,
is in a state of yawn.
To be amongst the living,
for today and well beyond,
will be a life's beginning
as we continue to carry on.

Mystic nights,
a purple dawn,
one more day,
this land beyond
and then I
think of you.

Forever were the Lillies,
growing near garden path.
Surrounded by Primrose blooms,
defying the Winters wrath.

Where there once was joy,
a new sadness resides.
The hardest of life's moments
have turned to the gloomy side.