Magazine Posts

Some whiskers that were on my chin,
have rebelled and are off again.
Unsure the way they left, or how,
but they're back; up in my brow.
Growing North, South, East and West.
I wish they would grow, with the rest.
There never was a brow that was dark
so I assume this growth but a lark.

In the US Navy and been at sea.
Doing Island Surveillance,
My mates and me.
Pulling into the Harbor
Our anchor drops
Into the waters of this beautiful bay,
At the South Pacific Island of Ponape.
We go ashore to walk about
And observe this Island life.
A native male, in a loin cloth.
One picture of me with ancient
Island wealth; Stone money called Fey.
The stone is not of this Island
And was carried in a dugout from
Where; not known.
Our mission was to check the population,
Pass out medicine and rations.
A great lesson of history in kind
Of reversing back to another time.

This life I knew,.
The wife I had,
Is now askew,
Has gone bad.

Dementia isn't good
And will never be,
Wish that I could,
Provide help to thee.

Trying hard to please
Caring, about every day,
Down on my knees
To think and pray.

It doesn't matter
Doing it this way,
For all the idle chatter,
Here I will stay.

To be with you
And for my care,
Please let me do,
So you are aware.

The evening tide, is not for me,
For it holds life's uncertainty.
I would rather run and fail
As I escape this earthly jail.

Oh dearest Mary
where are you now,
when I need you most?
Is your spirit here
or is it your ghost?

What can I say,
What can I do,
To return you
Back to you?

How do you write about
what you don't know?
Through observation of daily
contact and comments?
I have noted the comments,
"I don't know what I am doing."
Discussions are often started by
"Do you remember?" and then
a struggle, by me to call forth
an answer to that question.
A question from me, in return,
as I try to "pin down" who or what.
A wrong guess is accompanied by
a "No, No, No" and a waving of hands.
Sometimes, I am lucky, in my guess,
but mostly I am not. I do try
to use a process of elimination but
the asking of questions, by me, brings
a response of "I don't know:; I can't
remember." Frustrating for us both.
Every day brings a new adventure
in this our life's journey.

Here is a scene from long ago.
Owning a car, so you could go
To visit the relatives in clothes worn.
One's you knew, since they were born.
A great time, as a faded memory
Of what was and what will be.

The sunlight
spirals downward; caught
by the dust in the trees,
then burrows into the
piles of scattered leaves.
Life goes on, as Sun rays
spill toward the sheltered ground.
There is a golden silence
for the wind blows, not now.
It will resume in morning
hours, before the Rooster crows;.
Life is beautiful when you
hear the Songbird sing
about a song and ring
of light, from the Sun above
filled with warmth
and with love.

Walking through a stand of trees
Snow is deep, up to my knees.
Keep on moving, if you please,
Moving so my toes don't freeze.
This happened prior to Gore-Tex days
When snowy water wet your boots,
Soaked your socks; froze your toes.
Why we did this? No one knows.

Up very early, wife's still asleep.
Trying to be quiet, as I keep
An early morning time to run
Through the dark, shadowed streets,
Before the rising of the Sun.
It is very quiet, not much noise
Except for some figures
That appear to be paper boys.
I move up the street; a little hill
As my breathing and pulse increases;
I know it always will.
I push harder now, up this slight rise.
My breath appears white and puffy
Before my sleepy eyes.
At the top I take a left,
Down 148th's long, slight decline.
My breathing back to normal,
Now this run is mine.
I finish this early morning run,
Almost 6 taxing miles.
Returning home, my running clothes I shed,
I go into the shower; my wife is still in bed.
Finish the ritual of bath
And put on a suit and tie.
Out the door, I go to work
Feeling happy and very spry.
I will repeat this daily ritual
Until I feel like a well oiled machine,
Then I will be more ready,
If you know what I mean.

The morning fog, laid on the ground
muffling noise, from all around.
With my coat and sweater zipped up tight,
I start my walk, at Dawn's first light.
Walking early, is the best for me
as I can free my mind, readily.
I review my life, as it is now,
thinking about promises in our wedding vow.
Especially intriguing "In sickness and in health."
My love can't be measured in terms of wealth.
I will do what I must do
and keep taking care of you.