The Shadows
• 01/21/23 at 01:09AM •The shadows, beneath the tree,
hiding this lost soul, me.
Unable to adjust to life,
when I'm at the moment,
can't stay with my wife.
Retired for many years and now re-discovering some writings, from long ago, along with new endeavor to help save my soul.
The shadows, beneath the tree,
hiding this lost soul, me.
Unable to adjust to life,
when I'm at the moment,
can't stay with my wife.
When I pause, thinking,
of all the years gone by,
recalling our life together,
then I begin asking why?
Why did my love, so bright,
be diagnosed with Dementia disease.
What did she do to deserve this?
Answer the question, please.
Increasing wind,
across grassy fields.
Wind swept plains,
Nature's tools.
Fields of wheat,
waves of gold,
beautiful sight,
never gets old.
Comes the harvest,
combines in view.
Harvesting grain,
thinking of you.
Harvest time
in the Northwest,
a season change,
it is the best.
Magical times,
at this moment,
to talk
with another.
To me,
it's entertainment.
I need to write of verse
and the thrill of crafting words,
to help you understand,
not all words must rhyme.
If I were to call your name,
when I heard your favorite song,
would I be a "basket case"
or would I remain forlorn?
A name is important, to everyone,
for it is the only way,
to be well known
at both work and play.
The dirt beneath my fingernails,
from year and years of toil,
when doing what I loved,
planting bulbs and plants in soil.
I'll miss that now,
all the joy I will take,
but will rejoice, in the Fall
when leaves I won't rake.
Dark clouds are passing,
up above, quite high.
Wishing I was a bird,
into the air I'd fly.
To soar amongst clouds,
with my dream to fly,
If I wished upon a star,
"Why oh why, can't I?"
Beneath the Willow's
drooping branches,
a safe location,
is where I hide.
Long were the evenings,
where I was hiding,
to avoid the hurt,
from the outside.
The warmth of love
comes from the soul.
Gushing forth, through
words, soft spoken,
spraying outward,
through people's eyes,
Loves sweet presence,
goes unheard,
goes unseen,
without a sound
if people
are indifferent.
Twas the light which appeared in your eyes
and led the way to a new surprise.
A gift of love to all who stayed by love's
rule, until the end of days.
A golden beam, flashed across the sky,
brightening our awareness. Tell me why,
the words he spoke, that day, live on,
in my mind, every day?
I go not, when senses for all,
of my dreams, have gone away.
To be with you, on this day, remembering
all the love of this life. What are we to
do, when you want him?
The most precious love I have ever
known, where life from the coop has
flown. Will you still be mine,
when all is done? You were the only
one who turned my soul, which remains
today, as you know. Whose soul has
shrunk and almost died.
Run from here, pretty one, for my love
may not come to see you.
I want you now. You're all I need.
I write words which
are unique and fair.
Bringing joy to the
heart, or nothing at all.
Those words, stick in
my head and I must spit
them out, to be read.
Why does this happen?
Is this some kind of
punishment? I don't know,
I cannot decide. Is it
friendly, not having a life
of his own. How well,
if the words are from
heaven or from Hell.
Do you still love me, the
way you once did, or is
it my love you now must rid?
Your soul is strong, please
do not leave me, alone in
this world, with only the
words I write.
Must I stay behind, all
day and all night, locked
in my dreams or my
nightmarish light?
I know you ask of me
and I will say to you,
"This is our home."