Sometimes I loathe myself,
for not doing all which I can.

If wheat has a germ,
can you become sick
or is it an expression,
like, "thick as a brick"?
"Don't put all your
"eggs in one basket,"
or is it, a "tisket a taskset?
When a door is ajar,
is it still a door?
If you close the shutter,
how do you throw up the sash?
Seem like doing it this way,
would bring a loud crash.

Of all the things I've done in life,
'twas when I met my future wife.
She was walking with her friends,
as my friend and I were driving by.
We used a smart sexy line,
Get in ladies will give you a ride.
There response was said in unison,
"Get lost Creeps." Later, we met,
at a dance. I believe it was then
she decided she would give me
another chance, to recover my poor
approach. Funny how life works.
I sit here after 64 years of marriage,
praying she will recover from a disease,
which isn't possible. Dementia, has
robbed her of all of her early memory.
Remembers nothing of how we met.
Ask me if I knew her parents.
Words which melt my soul, as I see
her continue to fail and be at a
point, where there is nothing which
helps her do the simple things, in
her life. No matter what,
your are the whole of my life.

As my youngest Son,
is want to say,
"We all have an
expiration date, then go away."
An interesting thought, as I see,
a rapid approach to my senility.
Put a robe on my shoulder,
place me facing the Sun,
wipe the drool from my mouth,
and your day is now done.

We have a granddaughter,
not related by blood,
who won't get vaccinated,
no matter what I say.
My wife has Dementia
and loves to see
our granddaughter
who cuts her hair.
I don't want her near
to grandma or me,
until she is vaccinated.
Is this cruel of me?

Entering the dim lit room,
it smells of dust
and looks of gloom.
A small light, on the table,
to brighten the space. There is
a jar, of multiple items, some
wooden matches, pennies and
such. Among the items, I see a ring.
Interesting, I thought, a ring lays with
forgotten memories, of love and pain,
about two strangers, who are un-named
lays there in repose, with a dried up Rose.
What a story it must be,
a lost love; an old reverie,
of romantic days, in years gone by;
I bit my lip so I wouldn't cry.
Are the pictures, on the wall,
in this room, of a young lady and
a young man, whose name was Jim?

You say "I love you"
over and over again.
I'm uncertain you mean them
when you don't know my name.

You are my wish,
a great desire,
to see you again,
as my life tires.
Long may you
and your life
be in bloom
when you grace
a desired room.

For lack of love
the spirit died,
from outside in,
love was denied.
Go you now,
you must decide,
to bring together,
and be unified.

Follow the path,
see where it goes.
Smell the flowers,
if there is a Rose.
Walk the shadowed path,
beneath the tall trees.
Hold my hand, once more,
let our minds run free,
as all of the love,
I have for thee,
will manifest,
so amicably.