Magazine Posts

I do remember.
It's been awhile,
The sound of laughter,
That crooked smile.
The eyes so brown,
The dark, long hair,
The girlish figure,
You had no waist.
Walking fast,
Not like now,
When steps do falter
And then somehow,
You stop to rest,
As aches and pain,
Stops you from
Walking fast again.
I love you so,
Even with your mind
No longer there
And words that come
Are of great despair.
What will I do
When your are gone
And I, no longer
Hear our own love song.

I watch you smile,
while I do surmise,
not wanting you to see,
the moisture in these eyes.
Then you say to me again,
"Why is this happening to me?
I was smart
and had a mind,
now there's nothing,
It's so unkind."

The light of day
made it's way
across the dewy grass.
The shadows of darkness
were like shiny glass.
Flowers were tightly closed
awaiting the morning Sun,
while Bees began their flight,
a journey yet to come.
As the dew began to dry
when Nature's morning try
was, once again, on the move
in a repetitious manner
of colors to peruse.

What is this place
that we know well?
Is it heaven
or is it hell?
It matters not
for you or me,
but will shorten
the time for our children
and will end humanity.
We must reduce
Global Warming,
for the generations
left to be,
victims of our insanity.

My love for you does abound.
There is no music nor any sound,
That is like my love, profound.
Tell me please, what can I do
To profess my love to you?

Once again, the Crow came down
to check the rain slicked grass.
Looking for worms to eat.
For those of you, that do not
know, worms will surface,
if there is rain, for they
need to breathe, as they cannot
if there is too much water.
Watch the Crow, tilt their head,
to see the hunting ground.
For hunting is what they do
and it's done with little sound,
but if they discover a source of
food for them, they will caw and
caw some more to advise their
family and their friends.
A Crow, you see, is a very
intelligent creature, that stays
together as family until one
does demise. They are not only smart
but also very wise.

If I want your attention,
Must I hit you in the nose
Or will a new state of tension,
Lead to a war we never chose?

This heart
that beats
within my chest,
does so
with little rest.
An irregular beat,
that skips along
but with rhythm
like a song.
I am
the oldest son,
of this
family mine,
that loves life
of all others,
be they sisters
or our brothers.
We all are
of God's choice,
so please pray
for all your peers,
keeping control
of all your fears.
Hang strong,
I say to you.
You of all
know what to do.

You're a man now, don't you cry.
Words that still echo in my head.
To this day, coming from years past,
When being stoic, was not a choice,
But a state of deportment, for you.
It served me well, through the years,
To keep that "stiff upper lip."
So I was surprised, when one day
I felt a tear roll down my cheek.
A sad movie or tragic scene,
Demean me not in Public, you see,
For being stoic is what I am
Supposed to be, makes little sense.
I understand, but I must
Act like a man, not shed a tear.

My mind is in a shallow grave.
No depth of soul,
No heart, the brave.
I search for words. They do not come.
Perhaps I should drink some rum.
Whimsical verse, M. Oliver says to me,
Will not happen. Lost in my reverie.

Rainfall refreshes the air.
Water puddling in the street,
Except under the trees,
There lie the flowers,
In pots so dry,
Still growing with
All the colors, galore
More Impatiens are
What we need
To brighten this
Gloomy day.

I lay in bed at darkest night,
I cannot sleep, so I will write.
Writing words that come to mind
like oil to water, I will find.
The words flow to paper and
I write them quickly, with my pen.
Words that mean so much to me,
Hoping that the readers will see,
The thoughts, that grew in the darkness
of my head now make sense or are a mess.
It is hard to write now, I approach the end
Hoping you will like this, just pretend.