Magazine Posts

The wind howls
like a wolf in a trap,
as I settle down for
a short, little nap.
I tire now, more than before,
realizing that old age
has come through
our open back door.
Get away from me.
Go away. Let me be,
for I know that you
soon will calling on me.

One thing I've learned;
Learned it well,
Is the disease of Dementia
Comes straight from Hell.

I run from you.
I try to hide,
but I miss you so,
my thoughts can't decide,
if I should stay
with you, by your side.

If you don't like
what I write or do,
I understand your
point of view,
as what I write
may be more about me
than about you.

An inane discussion, is what it was.
No rhyme or reason, it was just because.
No logic in the words she said.
No understanding by me,
No rhyme or reason,
As there was nothing there,
Just an angst, full of despair.

A veil of fog covers lawn and tree.
Going out it will also cover me.
I stay inside, a nice warm shelter,
while outside the Virus plays helter-skelter.

A storm,
a port,
on land,
or sea,
trouble brews.
I'll flee,
far across
this land
so grand,
to me.
I will
then see
from what
I flee.

The days that lies ahead
are now full of doubt.
We are told to "Stay in
do not go out",
where the Coronavirus
could soon engage
the elderly and infirm
and compromise your
immune system, any place,
removing you from
Earth's lovely face.

Listen not to what is said
from someone who is brain dead.

A dream,
A vision,
A picture of you.
My heart
will race,
with joy,
Recalling my
memories anew.
Days will go
You will see,
Beautiful thoughts
Are coming
About thee.

For all of the World
a life is to live,
unfortunately not yours
but it's a life to give.

Far below in a canyon of dreams
filled with the shine of wandering streams.
The steeping hills covered with trees
being swept by a steady breeze.
Off in the distance, across the deep aisle
a Crow and Hawk began to beguile.
Soaring up to the heavens above,
the blue of the sky brought us love
and the grandeur of nature's far away
viewing the colors on a beautiful day.