Of all the objects,
I would like to be,
is the strength and toughness
of the giant Oak tree.
Using the broad limbs,
to provide shade and shelter,
for those, in this World,
who require much love
from the cold, snowy Winter,
attacking from above.

What has happened,
to our place in life?
You are my companion,
and my lovely wife.
The joy I saw,
was it yesterday?
is no longer there
and has gone away.
Your words are incoherent,
even to me,
as you try to relate,
our Life's story,
our family history.

Why can't I stay here,
stay here with thee?
I don't understand,
why it must be me.

Spread the light, brightly,
bringing it out today.
Lighten your world
with friendship
every wakening day.
Be the light of goodness,
you are entitled and may
do what's best for others
just don't get in the way.

I hear the wind, in the trees,
as rain falls, in spiral sheets,
pattering against the windowpane.
It is a strange sound
a different noise,
like the ratatat tat,
the sound of toys.
The wind driven rain,
attacks the side of the house.
I pull up the blanket
to cover my ears,
as the warmth of my wife,
lying next to me, eases my fears.
The noise doesn't wake her
so, I think to myself
I'm lucky to be here
and not alone.
I wrote this over a year
ago, not realizing I will
soon have to let go
and sleep alone.

I'm in the U.S. Navy.
A Petty Officer, 3.
I am the Postal Clerk,
on board our ship.
I sell money orders,
on our payday.
I also, go on daily
runs, when we are
in port, not at sea.
Guard mail runs,
with our Ensign,
require me to be
several paces behind
him. I am armed
with a .45 caliber,
Colt Automatic,
which is holstered,
on my right hip.
I am 20 years old.
It is very cool,
to go on a trip
to the Fleet Post Office
or FPO, to pick up
US Mail for my shipmates,
while the Ensign receives
Guard Mail, which instructs
our Captain on our Ships
next journey.

Come for a visit.
Bring your great smile,
the sound of your voice,
I haven't heard for awhile.

Tell me your name.
Where are you from?
Where do you live?
What will become
of you and your history?
Now you are living as
a lady this phase,
will you be a victim
of hate and malaise?
Will you survive
and live in better days?

Long ago,
when a boy,
my grandfather,
had his own toy.
A device, with a wheel,
which looked like a tricycle.
It had a seat and pedals,
like a bicycle.
You pumped the pedals,
but never went anywhere,
for the wheel was stone.
It was used to sharpen
tools, and give knives a hone.
A small container of water,
hanging above the wheel,
dripped on the stone and
provided a fine edge to
the knives with this
very large whetstone.
Ah, memories, so important
to whom we are today.

Lacey the wings,
fragile and lite.
Beautiful colors,
blessing your sight.

When will we change?
What will it be,
when all of the World
are happy as we?

A careless case
of a spoken word,
makes little sense,
when it's absurd.

Hurtful words are heard,
more often are inane.
My question seems to be,
"Am I becoming insane?"

Words once held,
with prideful joy,
were used too often,
beginning to annoy.

So many lies,
on the news today.
Who do we believe?
Oh God, let us pray.