Some days it seems, I have been
married my entire life
to a beautiful woman
who is now my wife.
Of all the things that I could be,
only happened because of she.
The support she gave so readily,
was done with elegance and dignity.
What will happen, when she goes away?
I suppose I will know on that fateful day.

Over the river, through the trees, they came.
We were being over ran, in this war game.
We fought in the trenches, side by side,
but at battle end, we all had died.
Please say a prayer for my dear friend,
He fought bravely for you until the end.

Of all things, in this World I've seen,
there has never been anything
like a well oiled machine.
The sound of that clickety clack,
raised the hairs on your back.
A clatter of valves, camshaft of course,
the exhaust of the rear engine,
air cooled 911 Porsche.

I know not what I write,
I know not at all.
The words that pour out
are not mine I write,
for there seem to be no
thought in my mind,
other than writing the words.
Hopefully they're not trite
but have meaning to you,
it's for you that I care,
no matter the issue,
no matter the time,
my wish for you
is Peace and be kind.

You talk to me often
when at the mall.
If I ask you a question
you say, "I don't recall."
I tell you, "I love you"
that's easy to say,
but you don't seem
to hear me and walk away.
The sadness then
comes over me
and I pray once again
for you not to see,
my sadness
for this time of our life
and its destiny.

A bone chilling wind
branches laden with ice
power outages

There is no weeping.
There is no sound.
There is no pain.
There is nothing around.
There is no sadness.
There is nothing here.
There is I confess,
There is a place.
There will be too.
There is your face
Looking back at you.

I looked at the wall,
purple it was,
covered with vines
and a pinkish fuzz.
I saw some movement,
off to the side,
when I looked again
my eyes opened wide,
for there, by the trunk
of a short, squatty tree,
a creature was looking
directly at me.
A small creature,
about three feet tall,
something you'd find
if you went to the mall.
It had four legs
and a tail so very long,
I knew at a glance
that it didn't belong
here in the room
looking at me,
so I woke from my stupor
and set it free.
Free from my mind
where it's life began;
free to enter my dream
once more, again.

Oh, oh I said
as I turned the next page.
What happened here
is a small outrage.
A page out of order,
is what I saw,
an obvious error
or a simple flaw,
of my writing too fast,
of the words, that I know
that spray from my past.
Wait a minute; Just woah,
it's not a mistake
as it really does matter,
when writing the words
it is not idle chatter.

As a young boy my only wish
was to grab some bait and go fish.
Fish down the long crooked stream
till a meadow with grasses tall,
to a spot, now called South Center Mall,
which at the time that was so merry,
was occupied by the Golden Arrow Dairy.