Magazine Posts

Out there,
beyond the Sea,
is where
I want to be.

Alone
on the beach
by the Sea shore.
A favorite spot,
to be at once more.

The sound of waves,
the cry of the seagull,
makes me happy
living life, full.

After the Rose
has lost its bloom,
after the Sun
breaks the gloom,
it will be the
time to say,
things didn't
always go my way.

I would like to fly
through the clouds,
of a rose-colored sky.
To soar to the heights,
close to the Sun,
with memories of
how our love started,
when we were young.

Oh, what a drag,
to be where you are.
No driver's license,
and without a car.
Yet you want to drive,
recalling the time
you drove everywhere
and the trips were sublime.

Drain your daily sorrow.
Do it every day.
There will be a better morrow,
and we can be on our way.

Of all the objects,
I would like to be,
is the strength and toughness
of the giant Oak tree.
Using the broad limbs,
to provide shade and shelter,
for those, in this World,
who require much love
from the cold, snowy Winter,
attacking from above.

What has happened,
to our place in life?
You are my companion,
and my lovely wife.
The joy I saw,
was it yesterday?
is no longer there
and has gone away.
Your words are incoherent,
even to me,
as you try to relate,
our Life's story,
our family history.

Why can't I stay here,
stay here with thee?
I don't understand,
why it must be me.

Spread the light, brightly,
bringing it out today.
Lighten your world
with friendship
every wakening day.
Be the light of goodness,
you are entitled and may
do what's best for others
just don't get in the way.

I hear the wind, in the trees,
as rain falls, in spiral sheets,
pattering against the windowpane.
It is a strange sound
a different noise,
like the ratatat tat,
the sound of toys.
The wind driven rain,
attacks the side of the house.
I pull up the blanket
to cover my ears,
as the warmth of my wife,
lying next to me, eases my fears.
The noise doesn't wake her
so, I think to myself
I'm lucky to be here
and not alone.
I wrote this over a year
ago, not realizing I will
soon have to let go
and sleep alone.

I'm in the U.S. Navy.
A Petty Officer, 3.
I am the Postal Clerk,
on board our ship.
I sell money orders,
on our payday.
I also, go on daily
runs, when we are
in port, not at sea.
Guard mail runs,
with our Ensign,
require me to be
several paces behind
him. I am armed
with a .45 caliber,
Colt Automatic,
which is holstered,
on my right hip.
I am 20 years old.
It is very cool,
to go on a trip
to the Fleet Post Office
or FPO, to pick up
US Mail for my shipmates,
while the Ensign receives
Guard Mail, which instructs
our Captain on our Ships
next journey.

Come for a visit.
Bring your great smile,
the sound of your voice,
I haven't heard for awhile.