Latent beauty, is always found,
when in the area of Puget Sound.
Look for it near and far.
See the Mountain, in glorious white,
what a picture it is to me.
When the skies clear of rain
and we enjoy our Mountain view, again.

Into the void of darkest space
to escape this life
to another place.
Where do you go, when in flight,
for there is nothing to see
in our clouded sight.
Off we go, as said before,
out to the desert,
to the space port, a door
into the heavens on rockets bright.
Go now young people
enjoying your pioneering flight.

Do we talk?
Do we care?
Do we balk,
At our despair?
What say you,
Oh foolish one,
My life's over
Yours just begun.

Please don't get upset with me,
when I tell you what I see.
I should have learned, so long ago,
a discussion is not the place to go.

The Frost has covered,
limbs, weeds and grass,
while nipping at new growth
of daffodils in flower beds.
The grape hyacinth, once tall,
have been nipped to the ground,
by the resident rabbit

The dog was young,
with a nose,
both wet and runny.
Pet me now,
rub my tummy,
wipe my nose,
all wet and runny.

Strangers we are once again.
You were my closest friend.
All the socializing of the past,
disappeared. My was it fast.

There are no words, I can say,
about the outcome of your day,
for I know not, of your Dementia mind.
I am sorry, I do not mean to be unkind.

I was sitting in the corner
of a smoke filled saloon.
A jukebox was playing a new,
Rock 'n Roll, Chuck Beery tune.
Having a beer, with a friend,
was my plan, for the night.
Have a drink and be mellow,
and avoid getting in a fight.
It was then I saw her.
She was sitting at the bar.
Her hair long; pulled up tight.
The laugh, I heard, was, well,
like the sound of a beautiful bell.
She looked my way, only twice.
No eye contact; not to me.
It was my entertainment of the night,
for there wasn't more, to be.

Scrambled eggs and bacon,
Rye toast on the side,
Is my favorite breakfast
Or when I can't decide,
If Oatmeal is my fore,
On this morning bright.
I am so hungry
After a sleepless night.

Across this land of broken dreams.
Across this land of abject sorrow,
Comes now a better day,
A more beautiful day on the morrow.

Along the shores,
of the Great Lake's water,
there grew weeds and willow trees,
with long limbs touching the surface,
of the lakes body. There lived a
man, you might mention, if you knew
of his presence. Stood he tall and
unassuming; purveying all his domain.
Here he lived unprotected. Here he
would live his life again.
He was the Captain of his making;
A strength of one, who only knew,
his was the last recollection,
of his world, from which he grew.
Go you now, with soul so pure,
resist the evil, on this day.
Stay with us, with your strength,
in this land where you pray,
where we all of us now belong.
Stay the course, remain you here,
be the strength, be thee strong.