Contributor Posts

Two ships, passing through the night
Is an often used, sweet, refrain.
The wayward glance, is a slight,
Comment on loneliness, that comes not again.
For all are strangers, in our sight,
The time wont last and will remain,
Lodged, in our mind, on that night
And will never be the same.

If, I may say
On this fine day,
That, I do think,
Without a blink
Of my hazel eyes
And with no sighs
Or moans, so trite,
Being with you tonight
Would make this day,
For one to pray
And from up above,
Find you, my love.

The Crow, came to visit me,
Just the other day.
I know, because the cawing,
Distracted me away,
From the flowers I was planting.

I told the noisy Crow,
"I hear you"
But please, do go away,
As all of my work, needs
Not to be, lead astray,
When I plant the seeds
For flowers, that will
Be blooming, in the Spring.
The Crow, still sat,
Amongst the Hemlock tree,
Watching me, as I plant,
The seeds of flowers, yet to be.

I feel alone, yet you are here,
Sitting next to me, so elegantly.
Our conversations, are minimal,
No words come, from you to me.
Logical discussions, do not occur,
As listening is not your forte.
When an idea, gets into your head
And I explain, or try to say,
The way things should be.
You keep bringing up the same
Subject, over again, with no finality.
Why must Dementia
Steal you away from me?
You are a happy person
And yet, it must painfully be
A frustration to you, as
Much as it is to me.
I love you and anguish so
To see you slip away
From our life long loves.
I beg of you, my God,
Oh please let her stay,
If not for tomorrow,
At least for today.

The world stops moving,
When I am away from you.
Even all of my loving,
Doesn't help me to do
The things that are important,
For a continued existence, of who
In this world, of flower and plants,
And so, I say goodnight, to you.

Life can be so tiring,
For those, who just want to do,
The daily tasks of living
But can't finish, even one or two,
Of those simple tasks.

Please come here, my sweet love.
Runaway with me.
We can leave, on the morrow,
Across the sea,
To an exotic isle, of sand,
Sun and thee.

The question, is for me to say,
On such a grand and glorious day,
When I awake, at early morning light,
Is what I write, so very trite?

Love's a river going out to sea,
Full of passion, for you and me.
Passion's compelling emotion, a force to be,
Letting people know, my love for thee.

When your world is, going so nicely,
You think all your life is grand
And then you realize, that more precisely,
That fate is clutching at your hand.
Then it may be time to evaluate,
Your life and value that you bring,
Realizing that no matter, if you deliberate,
You would have acquired, fewer material things,
If more time was spent on love,
For your family, neighbors and of friends,
Praying to the Lord, in Heaven above
You would not have to make amends.

I am so tired, I have said,
To write these sad words, of dread,
That I now must find, for me,
Something, so lovely, for me to see,
To help me write, about the love,
Provided by the Great God, up above.

I became aware of you standing there
With all your brown hair, hanging down,
Covering your ears and eyes of brown.
It was then I noticed your smile.
It was not long, until I spoke
And asked you to talk for awhile.
In moments, like this, recall the past
Of beautiful memories, that need to last
Forever, in my mind and thine,
For the remembrance of yours and mine.