Magazine Posts

Life is a book, of chapters unwritten.
The chapters are years, some are smitten,
With month's twelve paragraphs of truth and lies,
That bring happiness and sadness with cries.
Some books are short, some are extended,
Only your God will know, what's intended.

It is that time, of the year,
When all the Asters, start to appear.
A beautiful flower, so small and tight,
Their growth can become, quite a sight.
With purplish flowers, that pop into view,
Can be numerous or just a few.
It's nice, as the weather does harden,
As colors are welcomed, into the garden.

I am nothing, without you to adore.
I am nothing else and nothing more.

I don't know if you, choose to agree,
The discussion is more about you, than me.

Days will come and days will go,
And each will be, a different show,
With the approach of Fall, once more,
There will soon be, colorful trees galore.

There will be, a time to come,
Where many will pray, for an outcome.
In this precious life, we hold dear,
That will be, to challenge our fear.

The days of Winter, will soon appear,
Snow and ice, that some do fear,
Will be here, before year is done,
Then we'll wish, for the Summer sun.

Why do I tremble,
When I hear your name?
Why does my heart race,
When I am not to blame?

Know that I will love you,
No matter what you do.
How this all ends,
will depend on We two.

Do you understand, that what you do,
Has an effect, that I want to
Write about my feelings, that I hid,
Away inside, when I was a kid.
These feeling, gushing from my internal door,
Wither and die, will be no more.

The only crush, I want at all,
Is the crush of grapes, in the fall.
Those ripened grapes, luscious on the vine,
Will soon be, my supply of wine.

So long ago and so far away,
I thought I heard, a child say,
Rest is good, for you and others,
No matter if they're sisters and brothers.
So saying to you, my good friend,
Here's to that eternal life, without end.

Will I still love you, as before,
When you first came, through my door?
My love for you, I must admit,
Is yours to have, unless I'm unfit,
To share this life's, beauty and grace.
I long again, to see your face.