Magazine Posts

It is early in the morning,
when I hear a voice say,
it may be the morrow,
when you must go away.
Responding to these words,
"I can't leave tomorrow,
for here I must stay
to care for my beloved."
That's all the words I'll say.

The water is flowing, swiftly now,
down the rocky bed.
White water rapids appear
where calm waters had been.
The calmness, which surrounds
is interrupted by the harsh
cry of a Crow.
Looking for some flat water
to cast my lure and entice
a hidden Trout, to suddenly appear.
Grab the silver lure, if you can.
I await in quiet anticipation
for when you do, you are mine.
Do not worry, I will be kind,
releasing you back into the stream
to feed again.

When I came to you
with hat in hand,
it was to talk
to you as a man.
A man enchanted by
your radiant smile,
with so much charm,
you would then beguile,
with words of passion
and of love,
which made me pray
to the Lord above.
Please tell me your story,
as I want to know,
about your childhood
and how you became
the enchantress, or so
I think you work your wiles
and keep the suspense
away from your smiles.

Colored chalk,
a grassy knoll.
Don't speak to me
of your sorrow,
for if I should
leave this place,
it's not going to be tomorrow.
You make promises
but not to keep, but to borrow,
for you lie and you lie again,
like a farmers rusty old harrow.

Too many words crowd the page.
Don't confuse my love for rage.
I love waging a war of words,
Better than using guns or swords.

I left town, in a hurry
you see,
for I believed something was
chasing me.
Eerie events, began to confound
my life,
as I tried to ignore my
new plight,
but found I didn't like
the sight
of looking back at what was when
I began,
to see other, not as friends
but enemies.

When life is gone,
away from here.
When there are no more
teams to cheer.
When your friends are
gone from here.
When the Rooster crows at
break of dawn.
When your life is good
and not forlorn.
When in this time
love is back.
When our lives will be
back on track.

From the back of my mind,
these words pour forth.
Words, absurd, are not for me.
Useless they fall to paper, coarse,
in a jumbled array; A mess.
Now I must put in order,
to make sense of this discord.
Does it make sense to you,
when all the mess or a word,
brings understanding, here for you?

Singles arrive and couple up.
Not as you might think but
more the Geriatric group.
Is it a rendezvous?
Or just a meeting of
old friends, or strangers
making a new acquaintance?

Do you remember your first book?
Did it have pictures? Did you look
at the pictures and writing too?
What do you remember, trying to do?
Was it, perchance, a coloring book?
Did you stay within the lines? Look
at where you are today
and what you read to your dismay.
Enjoy your books and papers too,
for the writing by others, may enlighten you.

At last sweet lady, you did appear.
I haven't seen you, for almost a year.
Now, I am finally out of life's muck.
Good to see you, my Lady Luck.

Fear not the life
that lies ahead,
for once you're dead,
you are dead.