When I write that my mind is unsound
I try not to imply, there is something wrong.
It's just the worry that comes to me,
What I'll do when I no longer can be,
The support, that she needs.
A puzzle? Sure but not one to lose
As there are options that we can choose.

There is always a time.
There is always a place,
For these words to rhyme
when I see your face.

The new flowered Tulips
move and sway
on this cold,
cold April day.
The Sun is out,
that I'll say,
but the chill remains
and will now stay
for a few more,
of a Winter/Spring day.

I look out the window
and I see,
a three-quarter Moon
looking at me.
It is in the morning hour;
a quarter past three.
I am going back to bed
to be close to thee.