Contributor Posts

There was a time, in this earthly hell,
When I would swear, my neck would swell.
I now know, it was a primate urge,
That caused my blood, to boil and surge.
The time was close, to the hunting season,
Other than that, there was no reason.
Those days, long gone, finally did disappear,
And no longer appear, in my mirror.
I know what I did, years before,
But I do not hunt game, anymore.

Dear God, please help this wretched man,
That knows, not of what I am.

What will happen to me,
When you go away?
This is in my mind,
Each and every day.
My loss of you will be
A loss I feel, for an eternity.

No matter what, you have said before,
My love for you, makes me implore
And pray to God, "help me here".
In spite of this disease, so near,
That robs of you, all your ability,
As your memory, is a futility.
I know that we are not alone,
As long as we are, still at home.

Another cool night, that is in store,
That will see the leaves, turn more,
To colors, orange, yellow, bright with red.
Some will say, never let it be said,
Leaves will fall down by the lake,
Happy, that I don't have to rake.

Days go by, with fleeing light,
As the evening, moves to night
And the Harvest Moon, is near,
So I say, I love you dear.

The troubles you have, day after day,
I know will, never go away.
So my journey, is now for me,
To protect you, from all the uncertainty.

Life is a book, of chapters unwritten.
The chapters are years, some are smitten,
With month's twelve paragraphs of truth and lies,
That bring happiness and sadness with cries.
Some books are short, some are extended,
Only your God will know, what's intended.

It is that time, of the year,
When all the Asters, start to appear.
A beautiful flower, so small and tight,
Their growth can become, quite a sight.
With purplish flowers, that pop into view,
Can be numerous or just a few.
It's nice, as the weather does harden,
As colors are welcomed, into the garden.

I am nothing, without you to adore.
I am nothing else and nothing more.

I don't know if you, choose to agree,
The discussion is more about you, than me.

Days will come and days will go,
And each will be, a different show,
With the approach of Fall, once more,
There will soon be, colorful trees galore.