How
• 09/06/21 at 11:32PM •How can I be quiet?
It's so hard to do,
thinking of the excitement
when I'm here with you.
Retired for many years and now re-discovering some writings, from long ago, along with new endeavor to help save my soul.
How can I be quiet?
It's so hard to do,
thinking of the excitement
when I'm here with you.
No more tomorrow.
No more to write.
No more the words.
No more tonight.
You light up my heart,
when you talk to me,
for I am a gullible soul,
who loves most of life,
even when I can't predict,
what the future will bring.
Bring on the music.
Bring back the dance.
Bring back the joy.
Bring back romance.
A fountain of joy
is what I see,
when I hear your voice,
I want to sing;
Thank you Lord.
Thanks for allowing me,
to do what I do.
The Lake was flat,
nary a breeze.
I waited for you,
on a favorite bench
and idled my time,
to sketch out the scene.
I remembered a time,
when we first met,
down by the shoreline.
A gravel shoreline
was next to the bulkhead.
No sand but a lot of ducks.
Now, as we have aged
and grown out of sort,
should we still meet,
or just do an abort?
The wayward path,
my path to roam.
My travels over,
my path to Home
When the lights flicker.
When the moon starts it's dance,
remember the feeling,
when you took your big chance,
one step forward; a new romance.
Our brains aren't designed
to retain all of the chaffe
of unused data mundane
or memories of our past.
My enjoyment in life,
is when I find the time,
to write out the words,
for all of you to read.
It brings me pleasure
at this time and I need
to fulfill my hunger
and to sate my soul.
The bite in your smile,
has been gone for awhile,
why does it have to be,
for we were alone?
The crinkling around your eyes,
brings forth, a hint of love,
and knowing the life,
you have led. A World of hurt.
still haunts me now,
as my memories have faded
and slipped, in the clutter
of my rambling thoughts.
Why is this so?
I wish I knew.
The wind,
like a whisper,
passes over the hill,
where we first met.
A meadow, plush
with wild fbeauty,
kissed by April showers.
The color so rich,
against the bland trees,
makes me feel refreshed,
again and I want to see,
you and your smile,
a delightful sight.
My memory is great
and quite, the game.
I'll never forget
old what's his name.