Long was the river,
down from the hills.
A grand old river
of yellow Daffodils/

My love grew stronger
with every passing day,
until the disease Dementia,
stole her mind away.

The love we had
over these 64 years,
vanished from her mind,
amidst all my fears.

How can it be
a life lived and well done,
when it's your memory
becomes the only one.

Yet, she will say,
"I love you"
every waking day,
until it's tomorrow,
it's all gone away.

What kind of World,
in which we live,
causes this much anger.
Will we ever forgive?

Leaks forth the light
beneath yon sill,
as it flows to the darkness
of this warped mind,
lost in raw anguish,
of a love, now gone.
Look for me, not,
I've gone away
and shan't return
until the morrow's
fullest Blue Moon.

Come to me now,
for adventures abound,
with beautiful music,
a glorious sound
of horn and strings,
as our feet move around,
to dance with thee,
is what I have found.

Downward the path
of broken dreams.
All the lost souls,
are over, not gone,
for there is no time
to grieve for another,
no matter what's said,
for we must all grieve,
for those who are dead.

A leather glove,
a velvet sky,
a soft caress,
asking you why,
you left me
with no goodbye?

Years ago,
time gone by,
when a foggy morning
had settled on our street.
I heard the honking
of geese in flight.
Couldn't see them,
not in sight.
When down the street,
15 feet high
the geese were flying
in the foggy sky.
Quite a sight for me
another sighting of
flying geese for thee.

Fly the geese, wild,
high in the sky,
Honking, honking,
as they pass by.
An annual migration,
a passage of time.
Once more the season,
life springs sublime.
Soon there'll be goslings
down, by the pond,
as life in the World
will keep continuing on.

The ancient ground,
was hallowed then.
A sacred place,
with fertile soil.
The richest flowers,
bloomed every year,
in early Spring.
Fronds of Ferns,
will provide shape,
outlining a path,
beneath the trees,
as songbirds
sang a sweet
tune of melodies.

He wrote hard,
he wrote wet.
He wrote so much
he incurred debt.

Early in the morning,
hours before the dawn,
when your sleep filled body,
is in a state of yawn.
To be amongst the living,
for today and well beyond,
will be a life's beginning
as we continue to carry on.