My mind is slow
Like an antique clock.
All I have now
Is Tick, no Tock.
What do I do
With my writer's block?
When my mind Ticks
But does not Tock?

Mass of Daisies
In a state of new bud
Standing tall.

I'll not write of snakes or fleas,
As I prefer the birds and bees.
Nature provides all with many a thing,
Some with beauty and some that sing.
The color we see, in the morning light,
That disappears in the darkest night,
As life goes on, a single item.
It's a great World, ad infinitum.

The morning air
Cool, crisp and clear.
Breathe deep.

A miniature Rose bush, was I,
With buds to open and please the eye.
When my flowers were no longer there,
I was planted outside with little flair,
To survive the Winter weather's cold.
Little attention was paid, I am told,
About the pruning of plants, not chose.
Now here I am; A blooming Rose.

Wind with rain
New plantings knocked down
Wet ground.

The days draw short
Years move along
Quite rapidly.
Much like a song,
A very sad song
Of life's short time.
Memories that fade
And are gone, sublime
Is the mood,
That I see.
Please dear God,
Please help me.

Are you real?
Can you see
That my love,
Will always be
Meant for you
But not for me,
or my life
Of uncertainty.

I feel lost and alone,
when around you.
I ask myself what
I can do,
to make your life better.