No Life
• 11/14/22 at 06:24AM •No life to live.
No life to lie.
What happens now,
When memories die?
Retired for many years and now re-discovering some writings, from long ago, along with new endeavor to help save my soul.
No life to live.
No life to lie.
What happens now,
When memories die?
Straight the string,
to my heart,
tied to my Souls
emotional plight.
Why must I worry
about thee,
when I know your
worry about me?
I hear a worrisome
thought in my head.
I suppose I should
have stayed in bed.
Yellow stripes,
Hello big cat,
do you have a clue
of where we are at?
Jumped he did,
caught the branch,
swinging high, then
a scurrying chance.
Funny, he was,
to the gathering crowd,
a shrieking howl,
my goodness, so loud.
When rocking away,
using his tail,
sweeping a branch,
he did prevail.
Easy as pie,
not difficult to do,
with a long tail,
living at the Zoo.
The nights grow longer,
we are covered with cool air,
which covers our being
and our loved ones, everywhere.
Brightness comes from the East,
as a new dawn, cuts the gloom
while rays of the Sun
fill up the room.
Out there,
beyond the Sea,
is where
I want to be.
Alone
on the beach
by the Sea shore.
A favorite spot,
to be at once more.
The sound of waves,
the cry of the seagull,
makes me happy
living life, full.
After the Rose
has lost its bloom,
after the Sun
breaks the gloom,
it will be the
time to say,
things didn't
always go my way.
I would like to fly
through the clouds,
of a rose-colored sky.
To soar to the heights,
close to the Sun,
with memories of
how our love started,
when we were young.
Oh, what a drag,
to be where you are.
No driver's license,
and without a car.
Yet you want to drive,
recalling the time
you drove everywhere
and the trips were sublime.
Drain your daily sorrow.
Do it every day.
There will be a better morrow,
and we can be on our way.
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.