The dormant grass, so ugly and brown,
Started it's greening, as rain falls down.
While the picture, of grass being dead,
Runs through, my old and weary head.
I should know better, not to fear,
That Natures power, the greening is near.
I must plant, new bulbs in September,
For Spring's bright display and to remember,
Colors that will, erupt from the bed
Of our yard, that looks very dead.

No more cries, ere the
morning light.
No more whys of this
present plight.
No more random talks
without a notion.
No more discussion
with no emotions.
No more ringing
of the bell.
No more consideration,
gone to hell.
No more talks,
about anything.
No more happiness,
will it bring.
No more of life,
we know today.
No more my wife,
who will go away.

An interesting time, it was then
when the beach was in view.
Thankful for the time I had with you.

I'm not the one I used to be.
It matters not, if you love me,
For I know, my love for you,
Is here today. It matters not what you do.