Contributor Posts

May I touch your hand, to remember,
How our love, has endured?
Can I hug and hold you,
Until I am, re-assured,
That you won't suddenly leave,
When I am not fully cured?

These days of ours, are so uncertain,
I pray there won't be a final curtain.
Why is that, you may ask, today?
It's because I'm not ready, to go away.

The serenity of our life, is still
That time, that is so tranquil.
Must we succumb, to those, gone before,
That left this life, through open door?
I know not what words to say,
Then to praise God, on this day.

I care not, of what you say.
I care not, of what you do.
My only care, on this Fall day,
Is to keep, taking care of you.

There are some people, I don't like.
There are some people, I'll never be.
There are some people, who always lie.
There are some people, that I trust.
There are some people, more like me.

With sunny days and nights of cold,
The change, creating more colors of gold,
Reds, orange and many shades of brown.
Fall winds, shake trees; leaf's fall down.
A beautiful time, in the Great Northwest,
When plants and trees, get to rest.

A stake through the heart,
Is how I feel.
I can't believe, this part
Of life, being so surreal.
This hurt, that I see,
That we can't heal;
Your loss of memory.

Then the rains came, from the West
And soaked the ground, with out request.
The leaf's of yellow, gold and brown,
Will soon be falling, to the ground.
Raking and gathering, leaf's so sodden,
Make the best compost, for the garden.
This cycle of life and death, remain
To bring forth the beautiful flowers, again.

It is my charge,
To keep you
Safe and sound,
Every single day,
Until such time
That goes by
And your spirit,
Goes, far away.
Please dear God,
Help me today,
To be strong,
And stay my ills,
Until another day.

Do your eyes ever burn,
From shedding, too many tears?
I see your mental stumbles,
As you talk to me,
When you can't remember names
Of our friends, as readily.
When the names, of our children,
Are seldom spoken, by thee.
I dread that future day,
When you won't remember me.

When day is done, night's special wonder,
Makes one pause, to think and ponder.
For our life's fragility, on this day,
Should be reason, to start to pray.

When did this life, we know,
Start to decline, into the woe,
That became, our daily chore?
The answer does not, become more
But less and less, as we age,
Until we have, reached the final stage
Of life, with it's uncertainties,
That suddenly, bring us to our knees,
To pray, to our God above,
About the strength, of our only love.