Magazine Posts

You know who you are,
your style is unique,
as your smile still beguiles,
so this is how I speak.

I love you,
the way you are,
you have become,
a nice shining star.

A abrupt fall,
into sadness,
another lost soul,
gone away.

A long buildup,
had occurred,
the outcome
pre-determined,

When death rears,
its ugly head,
now anticipation,
no more.

Sadness lingers on,
with little respite.
Check your emotions,
staying in control.

It doesn't work,
that way, not now,
can't you,
understand how?

I think of you,
the sound of your voice,
your sweet smile,
as I rejoice.

Your thoughtfulness,
your cheery hello,
dismisses my loneliness,
from high down to low.

A re-print

Why do you cry?
Why are you sad?
I lost the best friend,
I have ever had.

Someday, I want to,
live for myself and
travel some more,
across this great land.

You had a great life,
be thankful for that.
(I don't know, will
that bring her back?)

Why are you sad?
She's in a better place now.
I know this isn't true but I
understand she isn't suffering.

I still mourn,
what else can I do?
I love my wife, my partner and
best friend too.

I know the reason,
but I don't understand,
why it had to end this way.

Back aways, late Fall, 1959, there was a place,
a tavern, which catered to the locals. Etta, was
the proprietor, owner, all around worker in this
small community, tavern. She was a short woman,
about 50 years old, not tiny but of a substantial,
size. I won't attempt to estimate her weight. She
was someone that was sought out in this area,
not only for her great sense of humor but also,
because she handled all her customers in a fashion,
both efficient and helpful. A well-known person, in this
small community. If a stranger came in, they may have,
found her gruff, but inside she had a heart of gold.
I enjoyed going there, for an occasional beer and to hear,
from others what was going on in the community. This was
during my early college years, before getting married, as I
was still living at home. I still remember this place and after
I had moved away, when I returned to see my parents, I
would make a quick trip to say hello to Etta and to have a
wee sip.
Unfortunately, this location burnt down, several years ago. The
rumor was Arson, but nothing came of the investigation. Now,
I reflect about Etta. A great woman who kept us young men
in line and always dispensed advice in a loving way.
I miss you Etta, very much and thank you for your efforts in
guiding my view about the good in people. God Speed, Etta.

My mind is convoluted,
so it must be,
for I am unsure what is happening,
to this emotionally me.

I miss my wife much more,
than it should be,
so why do I struggle so,
to remain solo and free?

I need to run and hide,
for I am weak and sad.
I do not want someone,
to be close, when I am mad,

for I get upset with what
life has done to my love
and to our family.
I will pray to God, above.

She walked,
walker in hand.
Walking the hallways,
as if in a foreign land.

How many miles,
must she travel,
before the sameness,
she sees, will unravel.

A reprint of a writing in 11/19/2020
I hope this will prompt me to write
more of beautiful things and less
of sadness. For viewing. Thank you

My emotions,
rage against me.
I will not pretend,
yet here I be.

Happiness and contentment,
I had many years.
Those feelings aren't present,
and these are my fears.

Forlorn is a condition,
I'm feeling right now.
Wanting to talk with someone,
but not knowing how.

I hesitate to show
interest in someone,
I do not wish to promote,
a false promise to anyone.