Magazine Posts

My thoughts of you, are sad'
Why did this happen to thee?
She was bright with a heart of gold.
Now sits alone, in a mental state,
of memories, lost, unable to care,
for herself.

Depression, my old friend,
I can see,
you have come,
back to me.

Recurring again,
though I thought
you gone.
Twas for naught.

Early February,
frost is back.
Need more sun,
warming the soil,
helping new growth,
survive and heal.

Come with me,
across a moment in time.
See what I see,
as a struggle in life.
Don't follow blindly,
stay here safe,
away from those who say,
one day at a time,
will improve your new guilt.
I beg to differ,
for I now see
the spending of monies,
has not relieved the stress,
has not improve my sleep.
It has become worse.
The hours I spend with she,
the time when I eat
and the hard times before,
have gotten more difficult.
I could just walk away,
but I can't. I won't.
This person is my wife.
She tells me her story,
of love and devotion,
every waking day.
I am not at peace.
I probably will never be.

If I say to you,
telling no lie,
would you believe,
would you try?

Life is short,
as we all see.
Life has no meaning,
if I am not with thee.

Life can be cruel,
in many a way,
when a loved one
is taken away.

Please keep saying,
you love me,
every working day,
I'll always be,

He who supports you,
in every way,
until it is over
at the end of the day.

a puddle
a big splash
wet feet

Late was our youth,
right from the start,
when we were young,
in affairs of the heart.

Time has passed,
we all played a part,
life was sweet,
in the affairs of the heart.

What happens now,
when we are apart,
at the end of life,
in affairs of the heart.

Life was a gift,
memories Alacarte,
another chapter,
in affairs of the heart.

Life was our pleasure,
our history and art,
we were all players,
in affairs of the heart.

It's been a while,
I will say,
since you and I,
came this way.

We walked together,
hand in hand,
as we entered
the promised land.

All these years,
here we are,
friends again,
you're a shining star.

My love for you,
always grows,
for you're a flower,
an American Rose.

Words keep pouring,]
out of this aged head.
I should be asleep,
but I'm writing instead.

When, to me, this happens,
writing words to be read,
I am awake now, sitting
on the edge of my bed.

Beds are a place to sleep,
but as I've said,
it's no longer true,
I'm a child to be led.

Happy, I gave
this life a whirl.
Happy I met
you as a girl.

Long did we live,
through day and night.
You were my sweetheart,
you were my light.

The light in our life,
has become dim.
Hold me close, now,
life has become grim.

If I tell you a story,
about me and you,
will you believe me,
if my words are untrue?

Lying to you,
is not what I do,
but I'll say it's alright,
worrying about you.

I've been writing,
for an hour, instead
of laying warm,
in my bed.

Good night all,
is what I say,
putting pen and paper
away for today.