Contributor Posts

A creative soul?
I think not.
Writing helps me
untie this knot,
of my anxiety,
hidden in my mind.
The worry for another,
a Caregiver you are,
for your love
of another.
The best you can do,
for she is alone.
Now so are you.

A sad refrain?
Of course it is.
Keep your memory
of her face,
focused and true.
I just say
those simple words
of I love you.

Write down the words,
that come from your head.
Knowing that's what you do
for those in the World
that happen to know you.

A quick hello.
A warm embrace.
It was great,
seeing your face.
Conversation with you,
adult to adult,
was easy to do.
I loved the result.

I need to leave. Go away from here.
I must go and just disappear.
Not forever but just a day,
Will help my mind in every way.
Feeling sad and lost am I,
For I won't let her, see me cry.

Absent in body,
still here in name.
Life on this planet
won't be the same,
if your aren't near me.
Do you feel the same?

Where goes the man
with sand in his shoes?
He's making his decision.
What will he choose?

I love this life,
I really do,
especially when
I'm living with you.

Here I go again,
down this old path.
Should I be serious
Or just have a laugh?

Words that begin flowing
towards paper, with pen in hand.
Are words left unspoken,
just heard in my head.
I write these thoughts, unthinking.
Free of the fear of failing,
when I send these words to thee.
Where am I now? What's next to do,
but to shelter and protect, my only you.
Where ever I go, what ever happens,
when I am around you,
it is so good for me,
I hope it is for you too.
For you are the one I love, every day.
I hope that this feeling never goes away.

Rough are the words
I write for thee.
Covering many subjects
for you and me.
Where do these words
come into line?
From out of the depth
where words are entwined,
from the tip of my toes
to the depth of my Soul,
entertaining you and others,
has always been my goal.

Sometimes I sleep "The Sleep of the Dead"
with no thoughts or dreams in my head.
An absence of words, so deep inside
stay within my head; are trying to hide.
When I awake from this stupor so deep,
I then know what it is like to sleep.
Unlike the times I get up at three
as the words in my head will remind me,
scribe down to paper, in my notebook,
the words that appear haven't been forsook.
Later that morning, I'll re-read the words,
striking out those are simply absurd.

Laying in bed, words all a jumble;
I'm not writing them down,
for I will not tumble,
into this pit of worry
or feeling sorry for me.
Oh dear God, help me out of this mess
of seeing my beloved, slipping away.
What can I do, on this miserable day?
My love for her is still there;
She knows me not, I'll not despair,
for I know her and always will.
My love for her gives me a thrill.
I know these words, corny they are,
but they're my words, they surely are.