Magazine Posts

My thoughts do ramble so
and words are stop or go,
as I write as quick as I can;
Not from fear but rather than
to let out feelings, deep inside.
Some that I won't hide
away from friends and family
but to stay as close as I can be.

No more will I hear
that cry in the night.
No more the pain,
no more the plight,
for time has passed,
as it usually will do.
I long, once more to hear
the sound of your voice,
when you talk to me,
of our dreams on this road to eternity.
Don't go from me.
Don't leave me alone.
Please my dear love,
please stay at home.

I remember back to the olden days,
laying on the floor, behind the kitchen stove.
On linoleum, metal, no asbestos
to protect the floor from the
excess heat.
Smells of apple pies, in the wood fired oven.
Those days of so long ago, are gone.
So here we are now, along
with all the good thoughts that
we recall.
Fortunately, for me, it's the good
thoughts that I remember, not the bad,
not the memories that make me sad.
Knowing that we won't
come this way again.

Under the water, beneath the Sea
the blackness is calling; it's calling me.
Return to the place where we came from.
Return to life's creative outcome.
The smell of the Sea, the splash of the waves,
is where I belong, not here in a cave,
for of all the wonders, in this great life,
there's no none as loved as my sweet wife.
My thoughts are a shamble of uncertainty,
for I must go now and return to the Sea.

Good morning Sunday, a good morning
to greet all the Seahawk fans,
up early this day to watch,
the Seahawks play in Philly.
An early morning game for me,
is what I like to watch
and root on the Seattle team,
for to win they must
get all the parts of the machine
running. Both the offense and defense
must purr like a new kitten.
Go get them Hawks the beautiful team
win nice but please stay mean.

Here I am, small, tiny and wee.
Half of the size I thought I'd be.
Down in the grass, under the dew
is where I'll lurk; waiting for you
or your pet to come by.
You won't see me; that just won't be
for I am an everyday common flea.

I miss you so, my sweet delight.
May I visit you now? Spend the night?
We'll talk again, like years before
of love, life and evermore.
My love for you is not disdain
but one of our life's long refrain.
The memories we shared about our past
was meant to be one that would last.
Let me be with you on this night
and we will both know, it is right.

Tell me why.
Tell me more.
Why is this day
One I abhor?

Words make us who we
are, describe what we do.
Words can be gentle or
unkind and cut your soul in two.
Words spoken in anger
cannot be taken back, no
matter the number of times
sorry is said. Yet words
of kindness, of understanding
and love, have more meaning
for all will be remembered,
ad infinitum.

Frost coats the grass this day
as the Sun slowly makes it's way
to brighten up this World of ours
full of people with fancy cars.

I go alone into the night
with no thought of fright,
to see what
I can see.
I take my flashlight
shining so bright
and think someone
is following me.
I move quickly now
to allow me to see.
I look in a window,
that I do pass
and the person looks
exactly like me.

When the lights go out
and I am alone,
although she 's lying
right next to me.
I say all my prayers
for friends fighting disease
that are on my prayer tree.
I have been doing this
every night since
two thousand one three.
I will continue to do
not just for you
but for all that I can.