A dog, a cat and a horse
named Blue.
Sat in the meadow with
nothing to do.
The cat hit the dog
with it's open paw,
then hopped on the horse,
with a "Yippee Kayoo"
and rode into the sunset,
looking for you.

Does it matter
when I miss writing
on a page, as my
hands are a tremble?
A volunteer movement,
what ever it means,
when your hand will shake
if your grip is loose.
A staccato of noise,
a rattling plate,
to see the movement,
of shimmy and shake.
Nothing to be concerned about
my Doctor states.
It's just a reaction,
so do not fear,
it will still be there
the following year.

When life comes at you
like a speeding train,
stand your ground; firm your stand,
for nothing is easy in this our great land.

It is 3 AM
and I've been up, almost an hour,
writing words, from my memory
and asking the question.
Who are you searching for?
Do you know my name
or where I live?
Must I accept you, once more?
If I leave now
will there be a big chance
to stay here with you,
in our life's final dance?

Would it be, I could fly
through the night air
and race through the clouds.
There is no freedom, when in a plane.
You are flying, but it isn't the same.
Become the magic, you say you are.
Fly to the Moon and be a star,
for it is your new destiny
and you are what you will see.

My heart has been broken,
all of my words will say.
Shattered in pieces, quite small,
by someone I don't really know.
Why does it happen, here to me?
I'm far from the romantic
I was when very young.
A cold place, my Soul
is in now, near thee.
I do not understand why
nor will I still pretend
to know of my emotions
or when it all began.

I try writing words,
which are easily read.
Safe words, which won't
get stuck in your head.
Words of contribution,
which will remain,
lodged in my thoughts;
stuck in my brain.
Please read the words
out loud and as you do,
no memorizing them,
so speak them for you.

Run from the dark corners of your mind,
though you know there is no escape.
No place to hide or to flee the scene.
The future is bright, but not now,
a world for me, is no longer here.
Her bright future is gone, not to be found.
I will soon, "pack my bag", as I leave
and will think of you as I weep.
What a sad ending, to a beautiful life.
You were the best person, you are my wife.

When the words become angry,
but are not directed at thee.
When the words become strong
like an ancient Oak tree.
Please try to recall now,
what I wrote was to be,
the kindest; the best person
everyone would see.

What is this life,
I write about?
Where is the joy,
when only the pain
is present, every day?
It won't leave soon;
will not go away.
She is a small child,
in her mind, now,
for it matters not
what she knew
as she is totally
dependent upon you.