Magazine Posts

Well here we are
alone once again.
Without our family
and no friend.
What do we do
if we don't intend
for others are close,
so let's just pretend.
It doesn't matter
what you do
or what you say.
Just make the best
of what you do
each and every day.
Worry not about
tomorrow or the
day after that,
for what we got
we did begat.

Here I am, on this special day
Sitting and searching for something to say.
Words are much harder, in early light
But come in torrents, late at night.
Starting with giving thanks
To all the Sisters and Brothers
Aunts, Cousins, Fathers and Mothers,
For the Veterans who live
And for those who died,
That served our country
To keep us, all safe and free
From tyranny and of debauchery.
My prayers go forth,
To all of the others,
May you have a peaceful
Thanksgiving Day, with no misgiving
And remember it's the season of giving.
Prayers to all.

Did you ever wonder?
Were you not aware
of the little dog,
that thought he was a bear.
He was a dreamer
that much you could see.
He marked his territory
by whizzing on a tree.
This little dreamer had
a notion he was bad,
but in reality
he was very sad.
He had been born
in a puppy mill
and could never see
beyond the mental fence,
as he searched to be free.
Then one night a storm arose;
the lights went out
and the gate did open.
He was so afraid, running hard
and suddenly he was free.
I'll run hard and hide
where they'll never find me.
It wasn't long
and then he found,
someone to love him so.
That was the story
being told from there.
He no longer thinks
that he is a bear.

I'll tell you a story
about this tiny, small dog,
that somehow thought
he was a frog.
He would hop about, happily
with an occasional running spree.
He would sit on his bed
at the darkest of night
with nary a human
within the dimmest of light.
He was so very lonely,
that was easy to see.
He wanted a simple adoption
and then he would be free.
To have someone to love him
that would most surely be
the best thing to happen,
If it were only me.

I'm sorry to say
but what I see
is a new bitterness,
slowly coming over me.
An anger I feel,
a strange, mixed sensation
that is now being caused
by an extreme frustration.
I am greatly bothered,
there's nothing I can do
to remove the pain,
far away from you.
Please, do forgive me,
the one that I love.
I need some help,
from God, up above.

When I see your face,
in the Moon's radiated light,
it causes me to wonder
and enjoy the sheer delight;
knowing you're here with me,
where I like you to be.

If I think about, what is to come,
As I see you go through the agony
And observe, the activities, at home
That you could do so easily;
Become so difficult, for a good outcome,
As you try so hard, to say to me
The words that no longer come
From the depths of lost memory.

I hold her tight,
we do not speak.
I feel the tears
run down my cheek.

What am I to you?
What are you to me?
Can you do better, when you see,
the light of day so readily?
Do I know if you
can be trusted to do,
those things that you
are not likely to?
I am not clear on that note,
but I did mail in my vote.

What the heck is the matter with me
I've been up for over an hour
and now it is about, twenty to three.
I think my body is starting to fray
and that it may be soon, I go away.
Good Lord in heaven, if that is to be,
do it quickly, so there's no suffering for she.
I love you my dear one, I truly do,
but I'm not liking this life
that has brought Dementia to you.

He once dated a coal miners daughter,
who's main drink was bourbon and water.
No diet cola or milk for she.
She drank, an occasional, sour mash whiskey.
There wasn't always a drink in hand
as she often sang in a country band.
Her hair was long; a scraggly mess,
and she always wore a beautiful dress.
She wasn't a "lost cause", you see,
but my daughter in law, soon to be.

So many words.
So little time,
In writing them;
making them rhyme.
What to do,
with cluttered head,
spewing out words,
that are said.
Not to complain
about or be
on the road
to my reverie.