Magazine Posts

In my dreams, I wait for thee,
Hoping and praying, in my reverie,
You'll look my way and recognize me.
I long to hear that nice hello,
Asking about how my day did go.
In the dream your mine to please,
Unencumbered by this hateful disease.
When I awake and you're not there,
I call for you, looking everywhere.

A river, running fast and free,
Over rock and logs, towards the sea.
The sound I hear, in my mind,
Are those of love's forgiveness, in kind.
A view of life's great travail,
Knowing that our love will sail,
Out of the darkness, on this night,
Comes the sound of love, in flight.

I think of you and I pretend
That we are friends, once again.
You know me as I know you.
Our friendship grew as did you.
We drifted apart, I don't know why
But I am willing, to once again try
To be that friend, you want me to be.
An arms length friend, is what I see.

Outside Moscow, Idaho,
By Clarkia and Elk River,
The forest majesty, is in view.
Under the tall canopy of trees,
Are massive Fern Glades.
The view is not cluttered with
Brush and you can plainly
See the grandeur of these
Trees, quiet serenity
Is what I felt. A religious moment.

There is a kindness, I see in thee,
Your reaction, when a young child you see.
You will stop and compliment, to the Mother,
About the cuteness of the outfit or another.
Nice words, that becomes this legacy,
Of the love you have, doing this part
Defines to me, your beautiful heart,

Some sharped toed boots
And brand new pants.
A clean white shirt,
A high school dance,
A teenage boy's.
His first romance.

Keep back the night.
Hang on to the light.
Mar not my sight,
Seeing this day's delight.

Sometimes I feel that life's a game
And we are but actors, on this stage.
The roles we play, were not ours to choose,
So some will win and others will lose.
Is that what life is all about?
Do we go silently or with a shout?

A quick hello; A long goodbye.
The life we live and wonder why,
One, who is good; It's not I,
Becomes ill and then we try
To determine, the reason why.
So it becomes, the long goodbye.

I came this way, I know not why,
For there were other paths I could try.
It matters, no more, as life is fast
And will soon be a footnote of the past.

The best things in this life are free.
Free from the hate and dependency
Of living your life with many a friend
And behaving well, so you don't offend
Or infringe on another's personal space,
Not knowing the color of their face.

It matters not, what you think of me,
For I will be what I want to be.
Free to write about my World view.
Free to write down words for you.
If you like them or if you don't,
It is your view, that always count.