A Piece of Cloth
• 09/09/24 at 11:55PM •A piece of cloth.
A piece of rug,
when you need,
you may have a bug.
A small cloth,
I do suppose,
is worth a lot,
when you blow your nose.
Retired for many years and now re-discovering some writings, from long ago, along with new endeavor to help save my soul.
A piece of cloth.
A piece of rug,
when you need,
you may have a bug.
A small cloth,
I do suppose,
is worth a lot,
when you blow your nose.
Beautiful wisteria,
above the garden gate,
as flowing, golden, colors,
enhanced the landscape.
Water flowerßsc, slowly,
along the garden wall,
where all the flowers,
grow, short or tall.
Should I leave tomorrow,
you won't need to call, just
tell all I love them,
look for me in the mall.
When yesterday is over,
is that when today begins.
Does that mean tomorrow,
will be an also ran?
Sometimes I become confused.
Unsure if it is the disease.
I know when it happens,
it brings me down to my knees.
If I can see tomorrow,
a day which may never come,
it would be a blessing,
if it's the day I don't succumb.
For all the promised tomorrows,
there never has been one,
for life doesn't guarantee survival,
or when it's one and done.
Someone told me, when the bell tolls,
Angels will take away the dead,
for all the souls are gone,
as other spirits fled.
My strength seems to be failing.
I raise the flag, to fight.
The journey is becoming harder,
because I can't sleep at night.
I need sleep, I know I do,
but it won't come at night,
so, I lay in bed, in fitful sleep,
which doesn't help my plight.
If there were no more tomorrows,
with fewer yesterdays,
would it matter what you thought,
if you were here today?
Walking down the Primrose path,
towards the end of day,
when you realize and understand,
this beautiful setting will go away.
Judge me not,
for whom you think I be,
as I am just a man,
who desires to be free.
Free from all aspersions,
of what people expect of me,
when no one knows
about my life, except me.
I don't mean to whine,
although it does sound like me.
Leave me alone. I'll be OK,
after God sets me free.
A melodic change
of events occurred,
when the songs,
of a bird were heard.
Heard by everyone.
one and all,
mostly in the spring,
but now in the fall.
Such a sound,
I will always hear,
when in the yard
and the birds were near.
Poses the dark cloud,
well above his head.
He thought he was awake,
yet he's still in bed.
What is your agenda today,
was asked and said?
Why I intend to keep,
staying in my bed.
My mind goes in circles,
is always my dread.
I have less chance of falling,
when I stay in my bed.
Falling is a no, no,
it is often said,
for when you fall,
you may hit your head.
Too many bruises,
you see often, instead,
when you trip and stumble,
on your way to your bed.