Magazine Posts

I feel the angst inside of me
at the news of his hateful debauchery.

I planted more bulbs, this past Fall.
Bulbs of Tulip, Daffodils and Bluebells.
I wait for the warmth of Spring,
when Mother Nature will do her thing
and I will marvel at what pokes thru,
almost as wonderful when I see you.

One of the few pansies
that the Rabbit didn't eat.

Next to you,
in our bed,
you move close
and you said,
"stay with me,
don't go away,
keep me close."
This I say,
"I love you
every day."
Hold me close,
I am cold,
Keep me warm,
I'm getting old,
stay with me,
until my time
is over here,
then you can
move away.

A friend of mine
made some wine.
Aging it for later
he filled his refrigerator.
The wine wasn't cold
so he was bold
and called a repair service.
The Tech walked in,
did a visual spin,
opened the door,
removed a bottle
and placed on the floor.
A bottle blocked the vent.
A $75 dollar payment,
is what you owe,
now I must go.
Ka ching, ka ching,
A winemakers thing.

An early bloomer
and more
is the lovely
Hellebore.

The first of January, in our yard
and bulbs are showing.
Poking through the ground.
This is earlier than I recall
but the mild Winter,
surprised us all.
I hope the Rabbit
out there, somewhere,
does not make them
his eating fare.

A string of words,
some dark as coal,
are coiled tightly
around my soul.
My question now
is so profound,
how do I manage
to write them down?

I can't lose these thoughts
stuck in the back of my head.
Thoughts so perverse of me
they might wake the dead.
Words come out so fast,
I try to write them all down.
I must look, if you could see,
like a terrible, grotesque clown.
Please dear Lord, I ask for help,
when you hear this prayer,
for I am lost and now alone
in this cold, cold Winter air.

A box of words, stood alone,
high up on the shelf.
Words that had been used before
in another way or else,
some that were always hidden,
never being brought to light.
For they were forbidden words,
to be kept locked up tight.
Mean and cruel words, they were
causing heart ache, when
used in strings, almost everywhere.
What words are they, I hear now?
Blasphemous words, you say to me.
Well please explain how,
the words I love to write with Pen,
on a ruled, bound up book,
when I am writing now,
the last time I did look.

I don't know you,
so I should not care,
if your life is
filled with love or despair.
Realistically, I do
think about you,
for my compassion
and empathy, every day,
is to pray for your Soul
in my own unique way.
You can't be here
surrounded by laughter,
when every day there
is a new World disaster.

I write for my readers,
that's what I do.
I write for my readers
exactly like you.

When you hit "Like"
or comment a few,
I feel inspired to write
for those, just like you.