Contributor Posts

A miniature Rose bush, was I,
With buds to open and please the eye.
When my flowers were no longer there,
I was planted outside with little flair,
To survive the Winter weather's cold.
Little attention was paid, I am told,
About the pruning of plants, not chose.
Now here I am; A blooming Rose.

Are you real?
Can you see
That my love,
Will always be
Meant for you
But not for me,
or my life
Of uncertainty.

For once in a lifetime
Of memory filled days.
There comes a moment,
Emerging from the haze,
Of all the stored visions
And in many ways,
Will always be there
Until the end of life's phase.

Want not. Don't you worry
Slow you down,
What's the hurry?

My mind is going
I've lost command.
My feet not moving.
Stuck in the sand.

Sand all around,
Creeping in on me.
I must run
But cannot flee.

A riddle you say?
That might be the case.
All that I know is,
I must leave this place.

Here I sit, not looking pretty
Trying to write words for this ditty.
Must I awake, during these early
Morning hours, 3:30 AM, thoughts are swirly.
I need to return to my bed
Letting the pillow cover my head.
So off I go, as quickly, you see
Into the bed that is calling me.

My mind is swirling, racing about,
Trying to be quiet, with nary a chance.
I have pen in hand, writing the thoughts
That are in my head. I try to write
Them down to paper, fast as can be,
For it is now a quarter past three.
That's in the A. M.
Even early for me.

The impact of this life of ours
Is measured, not in years but in hours.

I am surprised by someone near
That has chosen to disappear
From this Public Social life
That is filled with hateful strife.
Why she chose that, I cannot say.
All I know is, she's gone away.

Before the sunlight makes its foray
Into what will be a most beautiful day,
The darkness of night, did have it's way
When all the Spirits, came out to play.

Happy anniversary, my dearest one.
I do recall the day all this begun.
It was in the year, nineteen fifty-seven;
A moment in mind, like it was heaven.
We didn't always see, eye to eye,
But we did our best to try
To treat each other like we would desire
And raise the bar, higher and higher.
I love you so, my dearest one,
Ever since the day this all begun.

Push away from the dock.
Use your oar.
Out on the lake again,
Not on the shore.
The smell of the water,
Now does pervade.
The early morning dew,
Sunlight will invade.
The slapping of water,
Against the boat side,
As we row and we row,
For our morning ride.