Magazine Posts

I will always
cherish thee,
for all the love
you gave to me.

Today of all days,
I want to stay home,
for I no longer desire
to be left alone.

I was asked who I was by my wife of 65 years
as Alzheimer claims more of my beloved wife's memory.
There is no correlation to time. None.
I apologize for getting personal but
knowing I am not the only one who
is dealing with this terrible disease,
I want you to know, it is hard, but
you can still maintain a loving
relationship by being patient, caring
to your loved one.
Strength to you all.

" I don't love my husband"
but " I saw you and like you."
I am her husband of 65 years,
I'm OK with her not knowing
my name for she professes
her love to me continually.

Down the river,
without a boat.
Beware the rocks,
to stay afloat.
Fun were the days,
swimming until dark,
out for adventure,
not for a lark.

Wide were the fields of
golden wheats golden heads.
This was the time for
wheat harvest of grain for bread.

The slight growl of the combine
as it made its way, to
harvesting the grain,
was the task for the day.

Cut a wide swath, only the head,
leaving the straw stem standing.
Loading the trucks, grain the load,
then to the grain elevator
away down the road.

Tell me, please tell me your name.
I do not like playing this game.
Asking questions, hearing "I don't know"
makes me sorry. May I go?
Words in my mind, thinking of thee,
my love for you, may never be.

Long before the morning,
long before the dawn,
I awoke to find
my mind had moved along.
What is the reason,
why would I feel this way?
I couldn't separate tomorrow,
from the memories of yesterday.

What goes through your mind,
when memories have gone away?
What questions are raised?
Who can you turn to,
what can you ask?
Searching for something,
what can you find,
when all you now have
is an empty mind?

Words of inanely chatter,
float through the air.
Not just a person
but from everywhere.

Music is lively,
a good basic beat,
sounding good
as I take my seat.

The clanking of pans,
utensils and such,
noise for Pavlov's dog,
we'll soon have lunch.

Alone, a place in my mind,
where I want to be,
unencumbered about our life,
which has become a test of we.

Happiness in this life, ours
Twas never a guarantee,
and now is a status
of let it be.

She sits on the bench,
hands in her lap,
while the Sun's warming,
is a time for a nap.