Magazine Posts

The light shines on,
your loveliness,
as you greet the morning
with a friendly hello.
As I write, the Sun starts,
shining on my paper.
It's a good sign, at least,
to me.
Reflections of life, at this time,
causes me to
ask what happens next?
What am I to do?

Why do you bother,
why do you write?
Is your life better,
or is it just alright?

Confusion runs amok,
in this old mind.
A mind of indifference,
trying to be kind.

The World is a
strange place, to be,
when I am near you,
I cannot see.

What lies ahead,
although I know,
there is no cure
and you will go,
away from me.

The rain, with wind,
beating on the glass,
while I, inside,
watching the pane,
become wet again.
Water streaming down,
to the windowsill,
while I slurp coffee,
from a cup, cold.

My inner being,
is screaming at me.
Quit what you're doing,
for you'll never be,
the person you wanted,
in this life or eternity.

I see you in the morning,
you are my surprise.
When you greet me
I can see your eyes.

Thank you for caring,
thank you for what's done.
For what it's worth,
you are my favorite one,

Waxing poetic,
with word verbosity,
is a way of writing,
unfamiliar to me.

When the line breaks,
I may not stay,
or choose, another place
and move away.

I feel a need to flee,
or perhaps, fly away,
to begin a life alone.
It will be the saddest day.

How do you walk away?
I don't know when,
it will finally come,
The Long Goodbye.

Please don't tell me,
it was God's way,
my faith is gone,
I will not pray.

I hear the words,
filling the air,
asking for her mother,
in a voice of despair.

She loves our oldest son,
while say he's me.
She doesn't know,
it's I she can see.

Dementia is so cruel,
there is no comfort to see,
knowing of others,
who are the same as me.

May the wrath of God,
start falling on me,
not on my wife.
Is this my blasphemy?

I don't care if it is,
I've wasted time and breath.
I will await my visit,
with the Old Dr. Death.

The Sun came out,
chasing the clouds away.
This is the life,
on a sunny Spring Day.

When the Sun in your eyes,
is from a reflective glare,
sparks the smile within you,
and golden threads in your hair.

I await breakfast,
after sleeping tight.
Hearing your greeting,
makes my life right.

Little things,
brighten the day.
Good morning too,
is what I say.

From darkest night,
at last, it came,
a Spring breeze,
with warming rain.

Will you stay with me,
when I sigh,
awaiting the day,
I say goodbye?

She wore a yellow scarf,
not a bandana, as they say.
Listening to her voice,
you won't leave, you'll stay.

When looking into her eyes,
I am struck, with a blank stare.
Understanding now,
she is no longer aware

I hope to see you,
on the morrow,
sparing you,
my pitiful sorrow.