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Words written,
then read as we
become smitten,
for what we see.

Life can be funny,
Life may be bland.
If you enjoy laughter,
you must understand.

To admire someone
from afar,
shows how precious
lives really are.

I feel like,
I'm in a trance.
My body wants you,
I want to dance.

Dance with you, slowly,
the old style dance,
and keep you close,
as I'll have a chance,

to love you tomorrow,
and the following day,
for I won't let you go,
I need you to stay.

Slanting, driving, Summer rain
How you wash my heart of pain!
How you make me think of trees,
Ships and gulls and flashing seas!
In your furious, tearing wind,
Swells a chant that heals my mind;
And your passion high and proud,
Makes me shout and laugh aloud!

Autumn rains that start at dawn,
“Dropping veils of thinnest lawn,”
Soaking sod between dank grasses,
Sweeping golden leaves in masses,—
Blotting, blurring out the Past,
In a dream you hold me fast;
Calling, coaxing to forget
Things that are, for things not yet.

Winter tempest, winter rain,
Hurtling down with might and main,
You but make me hug my hearth,
Laughing, sheltered from your wrath.
Now I woo my dancing fire,
Piling, piling drift-wood higher.
Books and friends and pictures old,
Hearten while you pound and scold!

Pattering, wistful showers of Spring
Set me to remembering
Far-off times and lovers too,
Gentle joys and heart-break rue,—
Memories I’d as lief forget,
Were not oblivion sadder yet.
Ah! you twist my mind with pain,
Wistful, whispering April rain!

Summer, Autumn, Winter rain,
How you ease my heart of pain!
Whispering, wistful showers of Spring,
How I love the hurt you bring!

This poem from Jessie Redmon Fauset is in the public domain.

Jessie Redmon Fauset (1882 – 1961) was a poet, essayist, novelist, educator and editor from the Harlem Renaissance. Her literary work helped sculpt African-American literature in the 1920s as she focused on portraying a true image of African-American life and history. She wrote several novels, including There Is Confusion (1924) and Plum Bun (1928). Fauset also served as the editor of The Crisis from 1919–26.... Wikipedia

From a time when I wrote, as if I was a Poet.

Is it time to quit,
this daily drama,
in this routine life,
was something I asked.
A way to be happy,
without taking a pill.

When your love,
is unconditional,
leaving nothing to chance,
love will become traditional.

6 years ago, Twas written.

For all to see.
For all to view.
A tribute to all,
except a small few.

What are you thinking,
about your God above?
Don't be too sad, for you,
may be falling in Love.

This is a reprint of what I wrote to my wife when,
she had been officially diagnosed with Dementia but was
moving towards Alzheimer disease. It continued until she passed,
on December 24, 2023.