Magazine Posts

If your love for me, today
comes forth and goes away,
I will understand, it will cease;
it's not you, it is the disease.

I love this flower, yet
its name I forget.
It speaks to me,
in bloom today.
While I try to
make it stay
in the garden.

Running hard with lance in hand.
Running toward the promised land.
Dodging rock, stone and shale,
I must hurry, lest I fail,
To reach that pinnacle of this fight,
And be the first to reach the site.
I know that we will win this war
As I have fought this way before.
A victory celebration, that once began
Will be the joy for all of man.

Walking through the woods,
late one night,
When I caught a glimpse
that gave me a fright.
The shadows, the shape I saw,
brought chills to my spine.
When I looked again,
I swore it moved,
But then as I came close to see,
I found it was a gnarled tree.

This Soul of mine,
begs of me,
let me go,
set me free.
For I'll fly away
across the mountains
and the World's
shining sea,
if only you
would set me free.

My friend Ed and I had been
training for a marathon, in May.
We did our training runs faithfully,
starting in January until we were
averaging 50 miles a week.
We ran the Vancouver B. C. Marathon, in
May 1990. It took it's toll as when we
went shopping with our wife's the next
day, we had to back down the stairs, as
our quads, were hurting.
A few days later, Ed said, "We should run
the Goodwill Games" an International
competition. My response was, " Your
crazy". Ed explained that the marathon
was open to all runners, even "slugs" like
us.
We decided that would be cool as
we would receive a Commemorative T shirt
and a Medal, if we finished.
We had many more training runs and finally,
in July, it was race day.
We started at the UW Stadium, ran up
through the Arboretum, along Leschi to
Seward Park. We looped the Park and then
up the hill and down to 1st Ave S., turned right
and ran out to Ballard; left to the Locks,
another loop, then East on the Burke-Gillman
Trail. It was very hot and many of the "water stations"
didn't have any water. Finally, as we struggled to keep
a pace, we heard the crowd at the Stadium's
South Parking lot. As we approached we could see
hoses spraying water into the air.
Crossing the finish line, we headed for the spray, clutching
are shirts and medals.
Great experience and many memories, as we can
say we competed in the 1990 Goodwill Games Marathon.

I'm alone. Eighteen years young.
Standing in water, up to my knees.
The rippling sound of water over stone
Is relaxing me. I am surrounded by trees.
I let my barbed hook go downstream
As I watch the Sun, slowly appease
The darkened shadows of this mountain creek,
For it is opening day; ice cold and has tweaked
My nose and my young cheek.
A little tug on my fishing line,
Set the hook and it will be fine.
If my luck holds I will limit by Nine.

Is there love within the limbs of trees?
When the wind blows and branches quake,
While leaf's are all a flutter
As seed pods, spin to the ground.
Now I see new sprouts growing
And the sign of new life is here.
I must weed; removing this offer
Of new trees.

Gone are the days,
Gone far away.
A simpler life then,
Running and to play,
Kick the Can.
Fun at twilight
As the Sun descended,
Into the darkest of night.
Playing hard; do it again,
Running fast towards,
Kicking the Can.

Another story, another line. A string
of words, that are inclined to
capture these fleeting thoughts of mine.
Some words, just appear. Where others
remain, hidden in the shadows of
my mind.
There is a tendency, that stays with me
to write in verse or rhyming poetry.
I'm not sure why but I will say
it is ingrained in patterned words
that fall to paper, instantly.
I try not to think, too hard,
but like a broken pot or a shard,
will drop to paper, with scratching pen
and then will be the place I began.
Why I write in this way,
is still a mystery, most every day.

When the bloom is off the Rose
Perhaps it is time to stop and pose
The question of an aged mind,
Who is old but still quite kind.
What is the meaning of life, today
When most of your friends stay away.
Some from fear of how to be,
The kind of friend, that remembers thee.
It's hard to know what to do,
When you see Dementia from a different view.
Stay strong my friend, stay strong for me,
For I do recall somethings from my memory.

Working in the yard, late this morning,
I noted that the Hydrangeas are showing.
Fertilize and water is a must at this time,
The plants will develop hardy roots.
If they do then you will be rewarded
With beautiful blooms.