Magazine Posts

The Owl sat motionless and gazed
from the limb of a dead tree.
Lonely, hungry and now forlorn,
nothing came easy, since he was born,
or I should say hatched
for he finally had met his match.
She swooped in; she knows this place
and next to him, got in his face.
I am the ruler of this broad hood,
make sure that is now understood.
He nodded, in an acceptable way
and thought not to leave but to stay.
There soon would be Owlets to feed;
he was a hunter filling the need.

I write for me.
That's what I do,
but I also
write for you.

If you agree
or if you don't,
a few words
will help me.

Use the comments.
They can still
be good or bad.
Give me a thrill.

I walk this road alone,
in my reverie.
Pondering what life
will be,
when you are no longer
by my side.
If that happens
we will decide,
if you stay here with me
or to deride,
my simplistic view
of life.
You are my ever
beautiful wife.

Many flowers; colorful all,
will be gone by the Fall.

Sometimes I write the words that flood my head, not thinking, just writing.
Here is an example.

Words that cling,
words that fled,
have caused an avalanche,
in this old head.
Words we use every day,
are here now, and
here they'll stay.
Words that stick like Velcro
or like "a rolling stone."
No Moss to gather, all alone.
What is this gibberish
that you write,
are these words wrong
or are they right?
Talk to me now,
you Spring delight
for I will not leave
without a fight.
OK then, say what you will
but for me now, it's Good Night.

Dance with me as you did before;
A slow dance with music you adore.

She glanced at him,
as he walked by.
He looked at her,
knowing not why.

A single encounter,
as if by chance,
could this lead to,
a new romance?

He stopped again,
as if to try,
she said no to him,
with a sigh.

"Please don't bother me,"
she said to he.
"Please go away,
and leave me be."

Off in the distance,
I hear a sound.
Not knowing what or where
a sound so unique,
of soft and loud.
Melodious for my ears,
long will I remember
the sound I heard.
I won't explain
it now to you;
for it matters not,
as you must know
the sound of life
in a death throw.

The life in her eyes
faded and dim,
tells me the story of what
happened to him.
A long lost love of
so many years ago,
that she misses now,
waiting to go.
Missing the boy who
stole her heart.
He left her there
many miles apart.
A childhood love, gone
from her door.
He no longer visits here,
not anymore.
Nothing left for her
to see,
just an image of him
as a memory.

Chocolate dream, up in the sky,
Or chocolate in the chocolate pie,
You say you love me,
I wonder why?
Do you tease me,
Or in your way,
Will it be another day,
That goes by,
With me wondering
What I will say.

When I say, I love you
And you say it back to me.
When I say, I worry,
You say "worry not for me."

"Don't be sad", you tell me,
"For what will be, will be".
But when I see you fading
And there is less memory,
Then I feel so helpless
And I weep for thee.

At any social function,
When your eyes start to dim
And the words, you once remembered,
Are no longer, yours to be,
When the words, stop coming,
I will weep for thee.

My words escape me.
They have gone away
and will not return
when I will say.
I'm sorry for what
we have now lost
and will make amends,
no matter the cost.