Magazine Posts

Long will I remember,
the sweetness of you.
When did it end?
I'm asking you now,
were they my words
or your new friend?
Please help me here,
this soul is bent.
My time on Earth,
relenting life to you,
is not the effort,
so goodbye and adieu.

Great rivers of hope,
flow to the Sea,
where the ebb and flow,
will always be.

Life is our river,
although we don't see,
how our personal actions,
and how they effect me.

May life's journey be long,
with partners like thee,
as our life becomes one,
and one becomes we.

There are stories written,
about the feathers, white.
What happened to the tales
of feathers, black as night?

Does life we know,
leave with a rush,
or go it's way
as wind and dust?

Please pay attention
to the words which I write,
for you may see a change,
gaining an advantage and insight
of my mind, as it wanders,
from source to another site.
Writing of things; making no sense
or sitting in the middle of the proverbial fence.
The path of this life's gone;
will not return here, anymore
for all of my writings
will lay on the floor,
waiting for someone to soon say
The end is over, he's gone away.

I awoke in the morning
my brow covered with sweat.
My nose has been runny
and my stomachs upset.
I hope what I caught
will pass quickly today
for whatever it is
I do not like.
My hair is disheveled.
Is this even a word?
For at any moment,
it is now absurd.
Back to bed now
as it's after 4
and I need to sleep.
Sleep, sleep, once more.

Helter Skelter.
Here and there,
words abound,
they're everywhere.
Some words, good,
others are not.
I should have
been a brave
soul, as this body
wastes away from age.
Life takes it's course,
of all I know.
Which isn't much,
compared to others,
in this strange life,
for I will sleep
a thousand times
before this life is done
and others in this
land of ours,
will enjoy the evening Sun.
Whew!
I feel better now,
so I suppose,
my work on this mess
is now done.

A time in life
to rethink the plan.
The road, well trod,
we took; woman or man.
It matters not,
what was said
or how well you planned.
When the Lord decides
your life will change
every which way it can.
You have little control
in this World, ours.
Accept life as it is,
as life is measured in
hours, minutes of time
as the Sun will
still set, once again.

When there are days of love,
there will be no days of sorrow,
for all of the days of yesterday,
will be back again, tomorrow.
Yesterday has gone away
and today will be the morrow.
Look thee back, on those days,
finding the memories to borrow,
making this life a better one,
of happiness, without the sorrow.

For want of a word.
For a want of more time.
Why in the World
must my words rhyme?
If words are hard,
or just sublime,
why must they rhyme,
time after time?

The sunlight chases the shadows,
laying deeply hidden,
away from light and will
stay there, in place, until
disappearing from our sight.
Shadows cover the flaws of
the Earth. Flaws here since
the day, God gave birth.
He provided the Sun, Sky
and the Universe, sayeth I.
Long may thee and all your
offspring, whomever they be,
live long and healthy lives.

To write again these words to you,
brings satisfaction in what I do,
for these words, which are here,
will remain on paper, as I disappear.
Written words, as a writers craft,
brings forth meaning from the chaff.
Are the words confusing? I will ask,
for writing thoughts is my task.