Magazine Posts

A flash of light.
A flicker of flame,
Calls out to me,
Asking my name.
The odor of wood smoke
From the embers a glow,
Brings forth the memories
Hidden away, long ago.
Stand close to the fire,
You will I suppose
Have the smokie aroma
All over your clothes.
Remember the smoke scent,
Unlike the smell of a Rose.
Pull up your blanket,
Hide beneath the covers,
Showing only your nose.

Serenity is thy name,
a loving approach to life,
is now your game.
Avoid all of the World's strife.
Run hard from the same
toward all the others,
who live with their fame.
Seek out while searching
for all who you see,
as I do adore you,
my sweet Serenity.

Must a writer of verse,
perchance be quite daft
or be like the cold
you caught in a draft?
Perhaps it's not a cold,
only allergies or hay fever.
In any event, take my word.
Be a loyal and a true believer.

I go upstairs
to help her again.
She is my wife
and closest friend.

Write not for me
on this long, sorry day.
Bring forth the troops
to take him away.

You all are complicit
in what now occurs,
with all of your hate
and unwanted slurs.

Trying to change the rule,
in place on this day,
because you want the election
to go just your way.

You petulant child
with your pompous smile,
need to leave us now;
go away for a long while.

Why do you ask
about my new task?
Can you not see
I'm wearing a mask?
Do I like it now?
Of course I don't
but it's better to be safe
then rocking the boat.

When you wobble, stumbling your way,
like a drunken sailor, on this new day.
Walk a straight line, if you can,
you aged picture of an old man.
My balance was better, way back then.
It would be great if it was the same again.

The rain splatters against the window glass.
Showers today. They aren't supposed to last.
Another appointment to the doctor today,
Not for me but my wife's turn; her play
A follow up call, to a Geriatric place.
My land, I see another aging face.

It is early in the morning,
when I hear a voice say,
it may be the morrow,
when you must go away.
Responding to these words,
"I can't leave tomorrow,
for here I must stay
to care for my beloved."
That's all the words I'll say.

A beat,
a flutter,
caused a mutter
or a murmur,
as an old heart,
began its decline.
A shortness of breath
going up the stairs,
became a worry. Mine.
Congestive heart failure,
was the diagnosis
and medicines were prescribed.
Warfarin, to thin
the blood and avoid
the potential of a stroke.
My life changed, in the moment
as my health had declined,
but now I have found
there is no longer
a burden, as life
has returned to
a normal existence.
Well, sort of.

The water is flowing, swiftly now,
down the rocky bed.
White water rapids appear
where calm waters had been.
The calmness, which surrounds
is interrupted by the harsh
cry of a Crow.
Looking for some flat water
to cast my lure and entice
a hidden Trout, to suddenly appear.
Grab the silver lure, if you can.
I await in quiet anticipation
for when you do, you are mine.
Do not worry, I will be kind,
releasing you back into the stream
to feed again.

The Moon is full,
light poked through the leaves
of the towering, majestic Maple trees.
A lonely site on this Halloween eve
to look at the shadows
and how they will appease
the landscape viewed during the day.
A sight to behold; there it would stay.