Magazine Posts

A wayward waltz,
a Two Step, A Tango.
My dance steps,
went through a mangle.

Trying to waltz,
with a Two Step plan,
I broke my foot,
trying to dance the Vesuvian.

Hobbling, with my injury,
can't get on the floor.
I'll see another way,
and learn to dance, once more.

Here I sit, in this morass,
of emotional baggage.
The twist and turns, in this
new life are overpowering me.

Forced into decisions, I don't want.
Playing with my head,
when what was real,
is now certainly dead.

I find myself withdrawing,
from a good life.
I still see family but find
the closeness, starting to wane.
He's the old guy, who is becoming
more work than I need.

I am still polite but do not,
have discussions with
people about changes to the way
I was. Color me pitiful and sad,
as I drag my blanket.

When we sit,
unmoving, it is
when the depths
of depression, may
start over again.

When life was casual,
with nothing else to do,
but move alone being
a friend to you.

Is there any time left,
to start life again?
I know it will be different,
but I need a new friend.

Someone to talk with,
when trouble enters my mind.
Someone to console with,
when life turns unkind.

Not looking for marriage,
but someone to love,
to help me understand,
what lies above.

I was reminded,
by a good friend,
to get out and about,
if I wanted my sadness to end.

Here is an observation of yesterday,
at the Crossroad Mall, in Bellevue.
I noticed several older men, flying solo,
with a faraway look in their eyes.

Alone? Lonely? Why? Looking for companionship,
may be the reason. Few of use want to be alone,
or not have someone to talk to.
I've noticed, for me that it's a bigger issue than
I had thought it was.

I made an escape from the Senior Living facility,
where I reside. I like it there but it's like family,
and the last place I want to be to seek companionship,
is there. Not because of the people but due to the
close proximity of a place, where this little privacy.
Everyone knows what everyone is doing. Not for me,
although I do have many friends there who I love
like siblings. Thank you for reading this short ditty
of life at a late age in life.

It's the wee hours of the morning,
when I hear the scratch of pen,
on my paper notebook.
It was early but day has began.

What other reason,
can there be, in this life,
then wanting to be happy,
while diminishing our strife?

I write. I pray,
for just one more time,
from what was lost,
is returned. It's mine.

I loved my wife
more than words could say.
For 66 years
I love her every single day.

There was a time
when the following words,
were a reality. Unfortunately,
they're no longer there.

Losing one's mind,
not hard to do.
Finding it again,
hard work for you.

Check the hidden spots,
in your head.
Look for sorrow,
helplessness is dead.

Will you love me tomorrow,
the same as yesterday
or will you leave in the night,
while running away?

When I write about love,
I will write about you,
all the things you are
and all the things you do.

My thoughts of you,
are so bittersweet.
I hope in this next life,
we live, we will meet.