A dog, a cat and a horse
named Blue.
Sat in the meadow with
nothing to do.
The cat hit the dog
with it's open paw,
then hopped on the horse,
with a "Yippee Kayoo"
and rode into the sunset,
looking for you.

Does it matter
when I miss writing
on a page, as my
hands are a tremble?
A volunteer movement,
what ever it means,
when your hand will shake
if your grip is loose.
A staccato of noise,
a rattling plate,
to see the movement,
of shimmy and shake.
Nothing to be concerned about
my Doctor states.
It's just a reaction,
so do not fear,
it will still be there
the following year.

When life comes at you
like a speeding train,
stand your ground; firm your stand,
for nothing is easy in this our great land.

It is 3 AM
and I've been up, almost an hour,
writing words, from my memory
and asking the question.
Who are you searching for?
Do you know my name
or where I live?
Must I accept you, once more?
If I leave now
will there be a big chance
to stay here with you,
in our life's final dance?

Would it be, I could fly
through the night air
and race through the clouds.
There is no freedom, when in a plane.
You are flying, but it isn't the same.
Become the magic, you say you are.
Fly to the Moon and be a star,
for it is your new destiny
and you are what you will see.

My heart has been broken,
all of my words will say.
Shattered in pieces, quite small,
by someone I don't really know.
Why does it happen, here to me?
I'm far from the romantic
I was when very young.
A cold place, my Soul
is in now, near thee.
I do not understand why
nor will I still pretend
to know of my emotions
or when it all began.

I try writing words,
which are easily read.
Safe words, which won't
get stuck in your head.
Words of contribution,
which will remain,
lodged in my thoughts;
stuck in my brain.
Please read the words
out loud and as you do,
no memorizing them,
so speak them for you.

Run from the dark corners of your mind,
though you know there is no escape.
No place to hide or to flee the scene.
The future is bright, but not now,
a world for me, is no longer here.
Her bright future is gone, not to be found.
I will soon, "pack my bag", as I leave
and will think of you as I weep.
What a sad ending, to a beautiful life.
You were the best person, you are my wife.

When the words become angry,
but are not directed at thee.
When the words become strong
like an ancient Oak tree.
Please try to recall now,
what I wrote was to be,
the kindest; the best person
everyone would see.

What is this life,
I write about?
Where is the joy,
when only the pain
is present, every day?
It won't leave soon;
will not go away.
She is a small child,
in her mind, now,
for it matters not
what she knew
as she is totally
dependent upon you.

A square of paint,
Glass half full
of many thoughts,
about feelings for you.

I have searched the World over,
from near, far and wide,
searching for my partner,
who rode by my side.
A companion I loved
and defended at any cost,
until the most saddest of days,
when it was her life I lost.
I searched every cranny and flags unfurled,
in search of my love, a beautiful girl.
Thinking I had found her, a short while.
To me this person; It was there,
an instant awareness; I knew it was her.

The grandest of plan,
at least it was then.
The grandest of plan
ever devised by a man.
It was a great plan
and it would soon be,
one, which changed the Worlds view
of our Nations' history.
What happened on the night,
caused stress in our land
A military, watchful life,
away from here now.
Move quickly or I fear,
you no longer will
be with us the following year.

When you drag rough thoughts from your mind,
they will appear on paper, line by line.
Are they good or a plain, simple rendition?
Will the words last or leave by attrition?
I no longer know the words for me,
for my heart lies broken, as it must be.
How can I enjoy this messed up life,
when I see the damage done to my wife?

I have a new child.
Not new to me,
but a child, now,
who is eighty three.
She no longer can do,
those basic tasks
nor make decisions.
She cannot tell you,
what any trouble she has,
for she knows not the name,
of any item she sees.
What kind of World must it be?
How do I take my lifelong friend,
who trusts me and move her to
a memory care unit.
It will destroy her. I know it
and yet , it is something I must do,
if I truly mean, "I love you."
My heart if broken,
it may not mend.
Is our life life now over?
Have we neared the end?
I hope not. I must employ
some good things for her to enjoy.

Tell me a story.
Tell me my friend,
I have an interest
and two ears to lend.
Tell stories of real life.
Let us not do, "Let's Pretend."

I wouldn't call her beautiful,
although some people do.
I would say she's lovely,
but not as lovely as you.
It is her heart; her caring way,
as she took care of you,
in her most loving way.

She wore lovely shoes,
on those beautiful feet.
They kept her toes warm
and dry; a great treat,
for when it rained here,
as it is want to do,
her paws remained dry;
this companion to you.

A ray of light, slices across the sky,
circling the Earth, as it passes by
where we live. I see and am wondering why
the Blue Ray from space, makes another try.

I search my mind.
I scratch and scribe,
upon the paper,
using my old hand,
as I pull forth,
some words, from out
the brackish water, mine.
I wish you well,
for now's the day,
to change your life,
while you are still
the wife I know,
who lives in this house,
morning, noon and night.
Stay close to me
for the care givers life,
is never over or done.