You are my light.
You are my soul.
You are my dream.
You make me whole.

Wish I had a girl,
to look after me
when I am
old and infirm.
To place a shawl
around my shoulders,
face me into the Sun
and gently wipe
the drool from the
corner of my mouth.

He writes too much,
has been said before,
by many of his critics,
liking the old writings more.
I apologize to you, if by chance,
you were unpleasantly surprised
by this new, crazy dance.

We have met before,
both you and I,
in another lifetime,
where I wondered why,
the end of a life
would provide a new try,
to be with each other,
after saying our goodby.
Long did we live,
at that uncertain time,
a reincarnation was done
now our life is sublime.

Come sit with me
in the place you dwell,
down in the hollow,
across the green Dell.
I'll tell you the stories,
who no one will tell,
about folks in the hollow,
across the green Dell.
A young person, was seen,
either a girl or a boy,
who played in the grass,
all green, browns and gold,
who drank from the spring,
so he would never get old.
You do not believe it, I see,
but the young boy I described,
that young boy was me.

Peeling and apple
was grossly within,
when you realize
you're removing its skin.

When love of another
shakes up your reasoning,
all you think about is your emotions.
When the love is for your wife,
of many years, who no longer
remembers you specifically
but knows you are the one
contact she has daily and
professes her love to you,
moment after moment.
There isn't any rationalization
which will satisfy this loss.
I placed my trust in God,
for a happy outcome after
she made it through lung cancer.
In remission now but I have
lost my faith in God with the
insidiousness of Dementia.

Grey were the clouds,
clinging to the trees,
dampening the forest floor,
awaiting a new dawn,
bringing light to the night,
as we begin a new day.
What new adventure awaits?
What old problems, to solve?

When you say, you love people
but not the complications
relationships bring. What does
that mean?
I wish I knew the answer,
to the eternal question,
When does friendship end?
Or does it? When does love
begin? Or is it just an extension
of friendship?

Love a word,
4 simple letters,
With so many
Complicated results.

I like you,
It's easy to say,
But if I say it,
You'll run away.

Sit I, here
pen in hand
at 2:30 A.M.
Been awake
for an hour.
Why can't
I sleep?
A question,
haunts me,
then I recall
my grandfather
telling me
he lived
on under
4 hours
of sleep,
when he
was my age.
Didn't know
it was
hereditary.