Magazine Posts

Sleeping at night,
under the stars,
maybe a realization of,
who you are, Venus or Mars.

Is that important,
not, at this time,
when you are writing
about a very thin dime?

To find a new life,
in this jaded world, ours,
in this adventure's
journey to the stars

Please explain to me,
what is life all about.
Born in a whisper,
then on our way out.

Life is too short,
people will say,
but they do nothing,
except get in the way.

As we move through life,
we may find visiting others,
when their life wanes,
to hear their words again.

It will be a great reason,
when we all gather,
we'll talk about each other,
we won't discuss the weather.

We will talk again,
when seasons change,
nothing else will matter,
if we move and rearrange.

Another time to gather,
if you know and can tell,
we will meet again,
at a time we all know well.

Days will come.
Days will pass,
Before you know it.
Today's your last.

No flipping the switch
or emptying the tower,
for that is only in support,
when you cut terminal power.

When reason and logic,
crumble and fail,
do you find yourself,
locked in a mental jail?

Cloth tails with string,
fluttering on a beach somewhere,
as kites, a streaming string,
soar into the breezy seaside air.

Garden art did abound,
as my love would purchase,
Garden Art for the yard.
This is written about a
garden gnome.

It's strange to contemplate,
the end of a life,
after you have been informed,
"it's a matter of months."

I'm not thinking,
about the days going by,
or that my time will be over.

I'm trying to contact friends,
I care about to tell them goodbye
and convey my love for
their friendship. That's a good thing.

There is good in most situations. This
is a good thing...
Love to all, in this great adventure.
Good luck to all of you,
during your present and future life.

Forgotten
and forlorn,
since the day,
I was born.

Coming into this world,
back in my day,
was being born and
delivered on the dining
room table, by a midwife.

Humble beginnings,
no money for play,
but warmth and comfort,
was there every day.

The depression was
hard on all around,
yet they toiled at work,
if it could be found.

Not much money,
you could hear them say,
when a good wage, could
be a dollar a day.

Pay yourself first
was the rave,
a hard thing to do,
trying to save.

The ancient river,
flooding across its span,
the river older than
a Native man.

Deep within the alluvial plain,
waters surged, eroding soil.
When the rivers course changed,
a new channel from Natures toil.

As a life's time expires,
it's time to deal with a cost.
A cost of time, a loss of friends,
as the family prays to the Holy Ghost.

Seek salvation,
in these final days,
singing of joy
and to praise,

your God, who you
will surely see,
as life ends
and your Soul is free.