Magazine Posts

The rocks were slick
with a slimy green.
I placed my boot,
in the rushing stream,
where it moved and slipped,
as if a bad dream.
I lost my footing,
fell into the water,
over my head.
Fortunately, my waders,
with belt around my waist,
prevented water from
rushing in.
I re-found my footing,
now I was standing tall.
I'll tell you this,
waters are cold in the Fall.
I survived my bath
in the rushing stream
and when I awoke
it was just a dream.

Among the trees of Fir and Pine,
deep within the shadows, no sunshine.
Tucked away beneath the tall trees,
awaits a surprise, which will please.
A pool of water, shiny, Crystal clear
where love awaits and hovers near,
waiting for a single partner to say,
I love you, now have a nice day.

The girl with chocolate in her hair.
Chocolate is good to eat in bed,
except when you fall asleep
and awake with a chocolate head.

An imperfect smile,
was on her face.
A subtle hint
of a future embrace.
A wonderous moment,
of time and place,
to meet once again
and begin the chase.
A chase or pursuit,
ending in an embrace.

Run the distance.
Run it hard.
Weed the bed,
out in the yard.
Stay close to her,
is what you do,
for there will never be
another you.

The paint is wet,
like my eyes.
I hope it is allergies,
as I now surmize.

The long, slow journey, yet to come,
where we will go, then succumb,
to the ravage on you, precious dear,
where symptoms were there and did appear.
Forgetfulness, behavior, oh so strange,
you don't remember, not even my name.

Drag me down
to the land of Oz,
for my plate is empty
and I need a cause.

A swath of grass,
one muddy trail,
weaves through the trees,
which stand and prevail

Down in the depths
of the forest tall,
lie the shadows,
amongst the trees.
Sunshine never covering
nor coming, in between,
the rocky crevasse,
were the moss will bleed,
the moisture from the ground
which remains to all, unseen.

I am so dead!
Dead tired, instead
of the drain on my sanity.
Is it about thee?
Or is it still about me?
I tire of the change in this life.
I tire of the illness which took my wife.
Complaining about something you can't control,
is awkward, clumsy, self pity hyperbole.
"I am sorry" I say in advance.
Dead tired in this life's deadliest dance.

Walk not quickly, if your balance is gone,
for it takes no effort and your on the ground.
Choose your path; smooth and straight,
to avoid falling. If you must, use a cane,
no matter the path, no matter the stone,
do what you must, to stand alone.