Magazine Posts

Be still my love.
Be still tonight.
Hold on strong,
with all your might.
This current phase
of our lives,
soon will pass.
We'll look back
and be amazed
that we survived
these worst of days.

I see you there.
You're not looking well.
Are you now amongst,
those in the living Hell?

Where to begin?
Where will I start,
for the breaking
of one's own heart.
Losing a loved one,
even I, as a fool
cannot escape from
or use a tool.
The emotions I express
mean nothing to me,
so I must confess,
why then the tear,
for something this sad,
it's what I must bear.

Working in the garden
I espy a Rose,
competing with Tulips,
is what I suppose,
for in the Spring
everything grows.

When we were young
we danced until dawn.
Now when we dance,
we begin to yawn,
as our aged bodies said;
time for us to go to bed.

Don't measure me as a man,
for I do the best I can.
No longer a kindly soul
but one confused in turmoil.

He sprang.
He sprung.
He hopped about.
Please my Lord,
let me out,
for my mind
has now left me.
For I no longer see,
the good in this humanity,
when your life is a bore
counting the victims,
of a virus score.

I wring my hands,
not to break
but to relieve them
when they always ache,
in a battle to
relieve the pain,
so I will wring
them once again.

Through the window
of colored glass,
I spy the Moon,
three quarters past.
A clear, cloudless,
kind of night
of what I see
within my sight.

blossoms in the spring
now falling from barren limbs
snowflakes

Go to sleep, my darling.
Go to sleep once more;
All the illness will be over
and we'll be ready for more.

If it is the light of no doubt,
must we hurry and scurry about,
or look to the heaven above
with hope, courage and undying love?