I'll tell you a story
about this tiny, small dog,
that somehow thought
he was a frog.
He would hop about, happily
with an occasional running spree.
He would sit on his bed
at the darkest of night
with nary a human
within the dimmest of light.
He was so very lonely,
that was easy to see.
He wanted a simple adoption
and then he would be free.
To have someone to love him
that would most surely be
the best thing to happen,
If it were only me.
Retired for many years and now re-discovering some writings, from long ago, along with new endeavor to help save my soul.
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I'll tell you a story
I'm sorry to say
but what I see
is a new bitterness,
slowly coming over me.
An anger I feel,
a strange, mixed sensation
that is now being caused
by an extreme frustration.
I am greatly bothered,
there's nothing I can do
to remove the pain,
far away from you.
Please, do forgive me,
the one that I love.
I need some help,
from God, up above.
When I see your face,
in the Moon's radiated light,
it causes me to wonder
and enjoy the sheer delight;
knowing you're here with me,
where I like you to be.
If I think about, what is to come,
As I see you go through the agony
And observe, the activities, at home
That you could do so easily;
Become so difficult, for a good outcome,
As you try so hard, to say to me
The words that no longer come
From the depths of lost memory.
What am I to you?
What are you to me?
Can you do better, when you see,
the light of day so readily?
Do I know if you
can be trusted to do,
those things that you
are not likely to?
I am not clear on that note,
but I did mail in my vote.
What the heck is the matter with me
I've been up for over an hour
and now it is about, twenty to three.
I think my body is starting to fray
and that it may be soon, I go away.
Good Lord in heaven, if that is to be,
do it quickly, so there's no suffering for she.
I love you my dear one, I truly do,
but I'm not liking this life
that has brought Dementia to you.
He once dated a coal miners daughter,
who's main drink was bourbon and water.
No diet cola or milk for she.
She drank, an occasional, sour mash whiskey.
There wasn't always a drink in hand
as she often sang in a country band.
Her hair was long; a scraggly mess,
and she always wore a beautiful dress.
She wasn't a "lost cause", you see,
but my daughter in law, soon to be.
So many words.
So little time,
In writing them;
making them rhyme.
What to do,
with cluttered head,
spewing out words,
that are said.
Not to complain
about or be
on the road
to my reverie.
There once was, a young fanciful goat
who had bought a luxurious coat.
Not muted or striped but light grey;
a coat that he wore every day.
Named by his owner as, Billy the Kid,
he liked to play and certainly did.
Billy liked to run, jump and gambol,
as other kids would always extol.
One day, when he was extremely bored,
he decided that he wanted a skateboard.
Billy was a very industrial talented one,
so he borrowed from his owners Son.
He made a most modern board to
show off his skills to me and you.
He went on tour to do tricks and bring
fame to his family, that very next Spring.
All the kids, that he knew there,
showed up and he was cheered, everywhere.
He was to all a bright shining Star,
no matter the place, near or far.
He skated away that following Fall,
saying "I'll see you at the shopping mall.