Magazine Posts

My dear friend, a verse for you
to thank you for all you do.
You have helped me, with abandon not
to release all the skill, I've got.
Knowing that this writing is not pretty,
you must admit, it is a ditty.

Love to you
My dear friend.

Here's to my family, of wonderful friends.
My wish for happiness and good cheer,
During the turbulent times, we live in.
Can we do, for this beautiful season,
Have a rich love for each other,
No matter if, it's Sister and Mother?
To make a wish of grand Peace,
And of eternal Joy, upon one another.
The great love that we do share,
Should be our motivation and deed,
No matter the Race or Religious creed.
We must all be of God's children
And so, what I say to thee,
Please hold each and every friend close,
In this great land of the free.

I can't.
I won't.
I will not
give in
to this battle,
lying, deep within.
My soul
is torn apart,
as I watch
this hated disease.
I tire of
asking God,
to please,
just spare her
lost memories

Can I write you something?
Can I write for thee?
For at this very moment,
my writings are free.

I look out the window
and what do I see?
Frost covered lawn
and my Maple tree.
Frost, like a blanket,
providing little warmth to me,
a cold December,
chilling me and thee.

You think your life is a pity?
Stop now and go into the city.
Look at the homeless, on the street,
no place to stay, nothing to eat.
Thank the dear Lord, looking at thee
and be grateful that it wasn't we.

The mind is full of words
in disarray .
If not written down,
then there they stay,
to spin within and around
not making any sound,
but because they flit
within my head,
I sleep naught.
when I am in bed.

When the eyes well up
and the tears that flow,
do they rust your eyes
or clog your nose?

The aging process, we know, can't be delayed,
unless of course, we go away.
Not an option, not for me,
for I love my life's opportunity.
Push forward now, my life long friend,
and do the work, let's not pretend

A friend of mine, that I held dear,
is no longer around. No longer here,
took me riding, into woods and hill.
I was excited and had a chill.
Mountain biking, no pedaling for me,
but a 250 cc. Cotton, I did see.
A Cotton is a wonderful machine,
made for Trials riders, that I am not.
I didn't ride in the parking lot.
Going up the trail, was problem not.
Coming down, was my real trial,
for my front brake, was in denial.
A rear brake, shifting down, was my defense
and I barely stopped, before the fence.
I thank you, my lost friend, Jack
for keeping me safe and watching my back.

The furnace came on,
my hand has a cramp.
Time to get moving
and to "break camp".
Good day to you all,
be it big or quite small.
A prayer for all of you,
for the work that you do.