Magazine Posts

For want of love
a life was lost.
For want of life
a love was lost.
For me, every day
I want to run away.
For this old thought
I'll still stay.

My mind is shredded,
no clear thoughts appear.
All jumbled up words,
is all I can hear.
What to do now,
for I cannot flee
from the words
which are haunting me.

He sat there
in the noisy din,
his arms upward,
hands on his chin.
What are the thoughts
he must now have,
dead in his mind,
where there I saw,
no love present,
no love at all,
only the old fear,
an old craving; He
is just like me.

I write these words to you.
The words I write
are yours to read and review.
It may seem trite
to many readers; one or two,
when I write of love,
the words you can persue.

Words from a song,
ring in my head.
"Can't live,
living here without you,
can't live anymore,
can't live"
I need a word smyth
to help, rid these thoughts.
Remove from this page,
for "I can't begin to tell you
how my heart breaks."

There was an old insect.
I think it was a Flea.
He had escaped from the Circus
and he needed to flee.
He will find a way, to leave town,
perhaps on the underbelly
of a small dogs, fluffy down.
He hoped it would be a good ride
and that his new residence,
did not to scratch an itch.
I hate to be struck by a paw,
scratching for me
even if I am just a Flea.

Out in the field,
I can only grow rocks.
A worthless crop,
but it's what I have
and all I can raise.
A child of the depression,
who will never be brave.
No longer the pillar,
no longer to crave.
No longer the person,
who's Soul you can save.

These words are written, with love too.
Wishing a Happy Mother's Day to you.
I miss my Mother in many ways,
recalling all of those happy days.
Of time spent in raising me,
into this World; Land of the Free.
Happiest Mother's Day, my wish to you.

It was a long trail, as I recall.
Well used by deer and man alike.
A slight incline, along the hillside,
only grass and shale with Sagebrush, a few.
Climbing higher, one encounters some trees.
There were many Pine trees and Fir.
Looking down the trail you climbed,
the view was grand; seeing the valley floor,
with majestic snow capped peaks on the horizon.
A scenic, Panoramas, words can't describe.
How small we are in this World sublime,
yet there I was on my first hill climb.

Tell me now.
Tell me true.
What am I
supposed to do,
when she says,
"I don't know you."

You said "I love you."
Is this another lie?
For when you left,
there was no goodbye.

I am a rabbit.
I'm not a hare.
You may see me
over here or there.
I'll eat your Tulips,
Daffodils aren't my fare.
I travel your yard
and do it with flair.
I visit your neighbors;
I am everywhere.