Magazine Posts

Why do you worry?
It helps you not.
OK to have concern,
that is my thought.

When you worry,
you pick up a bag of rocks,
it is quite painful, from the
hat on your head to your sox.

When light fades gently
in a sunset bright,
it won't be long until,
we have slipped into night.

Dark nights bring forth
the beautiful starlight.
What joy when the Moon
appears bringing Moonlight.

Don't host your views, on me,
for your beliefs, are yours.
I don't subscribe to your conspiracy theories.
Not required to spend your time, dispensing
your stories, especially in politics.
You say you don't like Trump. Ok, that's your
choice. You say you are an Independent Voter.
Not what I see or the views you share.
Run Rabbit, Run.

The sky had a purplish hue,
mixed with sunbeam rays.
It was a beautiful setting
for the past several days.

When you face the World,
like you always did.
Finding a new lover,
of me you would rid.

Remembering old men,
you see every day.
Tell him to leave,
Just go away.

It won't be a great loss,
once I am gone.
You will find another,
to sing your sweet song.

A book,
a place,
where
words dwell.

A book,
a collection
of words,
stories to tell.

A book,
a library,
of reading,
don't yell.

A room full of goodbyes
is what I see, in the Memory
Care facility, as family members,
come to visit loved ones.
A sadness permeates the air,
as small white lies are delivered,
by those leaving.
See you next week or I'll be back
to see you soon.
An unsavory situation? No, just
a way to say your goodbye to
a loved one.

I'll write about items,
which life brings.
Write about treasures,
riches, diamonds and rings.

Why write about the
wonder of things,
when happiness should be
about love and heart strings.

There just isn't a masterpiece,
left in this old mind,
unless those jumbled words,
have material I can find.

Words a tumble,
start to flow,
spiraling downward,
someplace below.

Old fashioned words,
such as thee and thou,
falling slowly with,
what, where and how.

A mass of words,
piled layers high.
in my mind they
have reached the sky.

Words as warm,
like bees in the skies,
words a tumble
love moves and flies.

Love glows,
above the gloom,
removing a coolness,
from the room.

Love can dispel,
so much hate,
yet here we are,
in a war we must abate.

Why the hate,
why the lies,
why the innocent's,
mournful sighs.
.
Is this what life,
seems to be
All the bombing,
indiscriminately.

The joy I feel,
depends upon,
the amount of guilt,
I carry.

Guilt is non quantifiable,
yet I seem to carry this
burden with me.
It's not intentional.

It is reprehensible to me,
when I feel so helpless,
unable to do anything,
except provide comfort.