Magazine Posts

A dry day, outside
a dry day in my mind.
Good to see the sunshine,
helping me to unwind.

Long before the diagnosis,
in many places we live,
are the families with illness.
Prayers for those who are terminal.
Hard to deal with, head on.
We want to be positive.
In reality, there isn't a safe place.
Just a place to go and hide.
Nothing changes, as death chases,
us down the pathway of life.

Good morning it is.
Thank you for stopping
To see if I needed anything else.
You brightened my day.

Wax poetic, he said,
as he hung on every word.
Don't be ridiculous, I said,
for your talk is absurd.

You may hate me,
I know there are a few,
it matters not to me,
for I only love you.

The wayward son.
Let me explain,
happiness from before,
with a paramount swain.

Sunshine and shadow,
understanding the twain,
if I tell you about
my friend, old what's his name.

The night is still,
with a quarter moon.
I'm travelling now,
should be home soon.

I am missing you,
hoping you are well.
I'll see you again,
oh the tales, I will tell.

Finding peace,
within my being,
is my desire,
but I'm not seeing.

A happy completion,
of my quest,
to another place,
I may love best.

Across our broad galaxy,
soaring into outer space,
the thrust of rockets firing,
brings a smile to my face.

A celestial race,
to planets and stars,
on this long journey,
to the "Red" planet, Mars.

Is this the answer,
to our climate woes,
leaving the earth,
struggling with death throws?

Climate changes,
we must fight,
by replacing pollution,
bringing back the light.

Not liking this feeling,
one of feeling down.
It is smothering me,
when no one is around.

I've stopped to reflect
about my "jogging" pace.
My friend and I trained,
for the weekend, 10K race.

We trained, during the week,
using the trail from
Redmond to Bothell,
5 days a week, was our run.

On Sunday morning, we ran,
10 to 15 miles, one shot,
trying to get fit,
was our life's lot.

Are you happy,
with your life, today?
Does your loved one help,
or get in the way?

Do they support,
all which you do?
Are they employed,
or relying on you?

There are those,
who choose to exist,
not carrying their weight,
unless you insist.

Not saying or implying,
this is you.
Talk is cheap,
others must do.

It must be you,
who else could it be?
The emptiness, I feel,
when you, I can't see.