Magazine Posts

I'm a lonely flower
Grew by myself.
No leaves to support me

Why this feeling? A sense of dread.
I'm still alive. I'm not dead.
Perhaps it's because I cannot see,
What lies ahead in this Worlds uncertainty.

the Maple leaf's fall
fluttering to the wet ground
nature's fall blanket

A sunny day; it is not warm,
Perhaps it's the lull before the storm.
The Sun now hides, behind the cloud
And covers the daylight with a shroud.
Darkness creeps in, not soft but hard,
Covering plants and flowers in the yard.
There is no Moon, nor flickering Star,
For blackness now covers who you are.

For all the words in my head,
While I lay dozing in my bed.
I feared they would just go away.
They did not, for here they'll stay,
Down on paper with scratching pen,
While awaiting more words
To write again.

The darkness, my old friend,
Is back to see me once again.
That is good, a promise kept,
As it's been awhile since I slept.
Tired I am, there is no doubt,
That depression will cry and shout,
To gain a hold in this life of mine.
Fear not for my thoughts entwine,
With love, for all I know
That keeps this aged soul aglow.

I smell the scent of morning
as I rise up from our bed.
I hear the beat of raindrops,
outside, upon the shed.
The sound of rhythmic breathing
could lull me back to sleep,
where the warmness of your body,
rises up, from beneath the sheet.
The silence then is broken
by some cars out on the street.
I move from you, so slowly,
on tired and leaden feet.
I check to see if I awoke you
but can't quite see your face,
then I step more quickly
and quicken up my pace.

Grape Hyacinth.
Simply on a board.
Courtesy of our
young, granddaughter.
(2018)

A single Moth
Flits to the flickering flame
Poof, it's gone.

Get up now, you lazy one.
It's 6 AM; your days begun,
But the thought is in my head,
It's Sunday morning; go back to bed.

This is my affirmation, just for you.
I'll love you always, no matter who
Or what comes to disturb our reverie.
For you my love, it's all for thee.
I love you the way you are
And will do so, whether near or far.

As the Moon races in the sky,
I will ask of God and try
To understand the place we're in,
Unencumbered by lies and shame.
I don't know about where thought began,
But do know that this public display,
Must, I stress, must go away.
One can rant, rave and shout,
Sleeping with the Devil, is no doubt.
Something that bothers me most,
Is the evil I see with this host,
Of damaging our nations pride
And why this embarrassment, must hide.
This person, we have is so untrue.
That's how I feel. How about you?