Magazine Posts

Crashing waves
Seagulls shrill cries
Tranquil

I rememberl a friend of mine say,
"We need to run a marathon, one day".
My reply to him, as I recall
Was not me, not me at all.
We were already doing a short training run,
An experience, I would never call fun.
This was in December of nineteen eighty nine
And our training rules, we'd need to refine.
Running at least eight miles each day
With a long one of fifteen, I would say.
Rest on Sunday, because our set routine.
Our goal was to make our long runs
Every other week to protect our and ankles and feet.
The length of the long run, soon became twenty
And I can say that we did run many.
At last the race day was almost here.
Into the car, we made our long foray
To Vancouver, BC for the run of our year.
The next morning the air held a freeze,
So designer sweats of a Hefty garbage bag,
Over our head, it covered us to our knees
And we could shed it with great ease.
Off all the runners went, at their own pace,
With the coolest of air, blowing in our face.
From the Convention Center to Stanley Park,
The struggles were there, no longer a lark.
We ran with the comfort of our training
Time, now being felt, up to the
Lion Gate Bridge to North Vancouver way
A left and a right, turning to the East.
Then looming ahead, not a favorable sight
Was the East Bridge, with lots of height.
Down the bridge, legs feeling good.
My breathing was not labored, I misunderstood,
When an elderly man, watching, yelled at me,
"Breathe" which I thought I was doing.
My body was laboring, my breathing was hard.
We turned the corner, with the Finish in sight
And we sprinted towards that beautiful sight.
The elation felt when crossing the line,
I will always remember, till the end of my time.

The World we know is a difficult place,
Awash with friends and strangers
All with a different face.
Be not afraid of that fear within,
Just stand tall as your life will begin.

I lay in bed, in the still of the night,
Knowing not, why I am still awake.
Was it something I ate, prior to bed
Or a worrisome thought stuck in my head.
I rise from our bed, not using a light
And go someplace quiet, so I can write
Of the words, rushing into my brain,
Like the picture of an oncoming train.
My Dad used to tease me, sometimes at night
To wear a stocking cap, on real tight,
So when the wind was really a blow,
My ears, like a kite and off I'd go,
Into the air, like a string less kite.
All teasing aside, I know don't you see
My Father really did love and support me.

You are the Captain of my life,
For my spirits fly, when with you.
No matter what this life brings,
The joy I see in your face
Is more than I should be entitled
To partake. You were the one,
I was looking for, to love and honor
And so much more. What to do
When the life of ours does end,
Will remain for others and our friends.

How bright the Moon, peeking through the trees.
A radiant bright, light to my eyes, does appease.
The fullness of the orb does brighten the night
No noise from the Moon, just pure delight.

A lonely tear ran down her cheek,
The news was bad, not one to seek.
Why do those, that know not now,
Would comment on and then disavow,
The strength of one, so very frail
To the news that came by US Mail.
Wonder not about those things so sad
When A. L. S did take her Dad.
He was then, only sixty five.
Yet his mind was so alive.

Think not ill of me on this day
Or what might happen on the morrow
For my wish for you my dearest one
Is to bring you no more sorrow.

The world I know
Has come apart.
The one I love,
Has broken my heart.
Not because of intent
But due to disease,
That will not relent,
And leave her be
The way she was,
Full of love, for me.
It's an empty shell
She is starting to be.
The loss I feel,
Can not be described
For her love, you see
has been tossed aside.

I think of you and all others
Be they friend, sister or brothers.
It matters to me, for I know,
The love I have will soon grow,
To one of indifference and of hate,
If we, as humans, choose not to relate
To those whose life we don't see
A need for us to have empathy.

Full Moon
Brightness through trees
Peaceful

In step with the Devil, I am.
Not sure how that even began.
My mind must have subconsciously
Decided that I needed an anomaly,
For what life has in store or in mind.
I need to remember all of the Golden Rule
But avoid those who don't, be not a fool.