My love for you
is still burning bright,
even when you wake me
in the middle of the night.

When you love another,
what do you do?
Love is a four letter word,
best taken with great trust,
not an emotion coated with rust.

Running on empty
is my emotional life,
as I expend the fuel
helping my wife.
Conversations we have,
I do not understand,
for her evening behavior,
is no longer grand.

The Sunlight has slipped away,
as the shadows seize the day.
The air warmed by the Sun
is here and will not succumb,
as the coolness of the night,
creeps in to enclose us tight,
while the day has become the night
and surrenders again, without a fight.

When Moonlight passes by.
When there are no clouds in the sky,
I'll remember you.
No matter where I go,
No matter where you are,
I'll remember you.
For nothing is this World,
Sets my heart a swirl.
I'll remember you.
Forever and a day,
What ever comes this way,
I'll remember you.
When my heart breaks in two.
When there is nothing I can do,
I'll remember you.

Out the window glass pane,
I see the splatter of more rain.
Rain is nature's own life source
of growing seasons, of course.

My Soul is black,
Now dark with fear,
as the end of a life,
is drawing near.

Forego the wind.
Forego the fame.
I ask only
for your name.
We were young,
when we met.
Asking of you,
with no regret.
My memories gone.
Fleeing the scene,
escaping from here,
for I mean,
of something thought,
is your last name;
what I forgot.
Help me now,
oh pretty please.
Keeps me hanging,
not nice to do,
dangling in the breeze.

It's getting close.
It's getting near,
when a mosquito's sound
is what you'll hear.

When weird things happen, in early night.
When crazy talk, comes from your wife.
When she admits, she knows not why,
she doesn't cry; doesn't cry.
Why does she say she doesn't belong,
here with me, in this house ours.
Sun downing can be a terrible sight,
raising the hackles on this neck, mine.
I am here, now alone, in this time.

A warming wind blows through the trees,
softening the ground, to prepare and appease,
the last of Winter; A spring breeze.
The Native name for this warm breeze, was Chinook.
Warming ground, melting snow, which it took,
the coldness of Winter away from here,
as the Spring change made flowers appear.
I love this time and always will,
awaiting the coming of the Daffodil.

The black cloak of night
descends on this World, ours
and moonlight may come again
as the Moon fights with the Stars.
Are we creatures of the dark?
Do we keep our voices hidden?
Can we not be friends again
or must our friendship be ridden.
Rid us of the hate we have
for others who do not look
the same as us.
Before long we all will be riding
on this excuse of a fairness bus.