Why do I, care about you?
Must I do, what I do?
Life's mystery, of love and passion,
Fortunately, is still much in fashion.
The love for you or another,
Set up, when young, by our Mother.
Life's mystery, grows, each and every day,
Bringing love, along with heartache, today.
What's important; life must go on,
When the memories of yesterday are gone.

If you encourage me to write,
It will bring new energy to me
And I will provide better writing for thee.
I'm not asking for you to like
But any comment, will help me
Write, more (or less) of what you see.
Is it my Ego, that asks you, of this
Or just one old person you might miss.
Comments will work just fine
I'll read them with a glass of wine.

Many years ago, I was a hunter.
Into the woods we would saunter,
Looking for Elk, on this particular date,
Which was opening season, in Washington State.
Walking quietly, through forest and glen,
This tested our manhood, way back then.
Moving along, I came to a dense thicket,
So heavy with trees, brush, thick like a wicket.
Moving along, as quietly as you please
Sometimes I had to get down on my knees.
Head down and moving quite slow,
I looked up, into the eyes of a Doe.
We were both surprised to see another
And we stopped to stare at each other.
Slowly, quite slowly, the Doe moved away.
She was the only animal I saw on that day.
Another day of not getting any meat
But a memory of encounter, was a treat.

Cascading water, a most peaceful sound.
No crowds of people, hanging around.
Colored blanket, laid on the ground,
A picnic lunch with meat, cheese and thine
Along with a few bottles of wine.
What more could I ask on this day
But to enjoy the moment, in this way.