Is it time to trip
the Light Fantastic
or shuffle off to Buffalo?
While it seems, in this campaign,
the use of smoke and mirrors
and untruthful innuendo invades
our daily lives, with promises
made and promises kept,
with no regards for others.
Racist remarks, from a individual
of questionable virtue. If re-elected,
what does that say about the moral
values of this country's citizens?
Vote Blue

I gaze at the sky,
the twinkling stars,
wondering out loud
if your from Venus or Mars.
Please tell me your name,
don't run away.
I am a lonely soul
and here I must stay.

He beats the drum slowly
to honor the dead.
A fact that is lodged firmly
inside his head.
The fear of the virus
and the death ahead,
you're complicit in the loss
from the way you led.

When I came to you
with hat in hand,
it was to talk
to you as a man.
A man enchanted by
your radiant smile,
with so much charm,
you would then beguile,
with words of passion
and of love,
which made me pray
to the Lord above.
Please tell me your story,
as I want to know,
about your childhood
and how you became
the enchantress, or so
I think you work your wiles
and keep the suspense
away from your smiles.

Your beauty is still with you today.
"Your skin has few wrinkles," I say.
You have survived lung cancer, stage three,
But the Chemo triggered Dementia, unfortunately.
The cancer, gone for six years, my wife,
While the Dementia has changed your life.
The only thing left to do,
Is for me to take care of you.

To wit,
too wit,
two wit,
which is three
ways to write,
to be right,
when I scribe,
words for thee.

Is it one
or one more,
making it four,
like saying before.
Are these words,
those which will soar
or like Poe, in "The Raven"
saying "Nevermore/"

What can be said,
has been said before,
some words are silent,
other words roar.

Colored chalk,
a grassy knoll.
Don't speak to me
of your sorrow,
for if I should
leave this place,
it's not going to be tomorrow.
You make promises
but not to keep, but to borrow,
for you lie and you lie again,
like a farmers rusty old harrow.

Sit I here, amongst all the dread
and the fear which is in my head.
A fear of what will soon be,
when I cannot care for thee.

There are too many words,
lodged in my head.
Stale, unused, hard and dry,
as if day old bread.
I need to cleanse this mess,
out of this aged, cluttered brain.
It may be best if I try to explain.
When I write, over and
over, once again,
the words are very stale
and cause me some pain.
Don't overuse words,
such as "that".
It makes your writings
so excessively flat.
Do not keep using the same word,
row after row after row
as it will haunt the writing
with no place to go.
With a train of thought, heck,
you may provide a writing
which is a train wreck.
Keep writing and let yourself go
and for your answer take not a No.

Depression: a slight dip in the surface; concave.

I have a slight depression in my Soul.
Standing with my lovely wife,
helping her brush her teeth.
A slow process, as I tell her to grab
her toothbrush. She picks up a bottle
of skin lotion and asks, "This?"
I am amazed how little she
remembers, about the day to day
tasks. My role is to step through
these requirements, morning and night.
Tonight, as I stood near her, as
she brushed her teeth, she did it well
but had to be reminded to put
toothpaste on the brush, always responding,
"Like this?" It's then, my emotional
well being, becomes stretched and I
sadly feel, like I am becoming unhinged.
We will get through this, you and I.
You will see as we can only try.

My grasp of sanity
has left with you.
From whence came I
when I no longer do.
This mind of mine,
unlike so many or so few,
wants to quit my
love for you. But as I
walk the jagged edge,
I see it's not you, it's me.
Why does my heart burn so
if I am to be the last to go.

She is in bed, quiet, unaware
of her lovely shade of hair.
Silver color, with a wave or two.
A short haircut is her new do.

Too many words crowd the page.
Don't confuse my love for rage.
I love waging a war of words,
Better than using guns or swords.

I walk the road,
I drive the car,
I search the fields,
both near and far.
Where are you now?
What is my goal?
I look for you
and my missing Soul.

My head is now spinning,
like a wind without sail,
as my thoughts of a person;
a Bulgarian girl.
I'm too old for this now,
so what can I do
but to fight off those feelings
of all this I see.
What in the World is now
happening to me?
Am I so starved for affection
in this time of life,
or is it because I can no longer
converse with my Wife?

A glimpse of your leg,
a wink of your eye,
tells me nothing about
the warmth of your sigh.
A sigh of compassion
or a question of why,
creates a new emotion,
as evening draws nigh.
A strange time, on this day
as we live in this World,
where dreams have gone away.

Go forth all of you of note.
Be assured and cast your vote.
Vote for who you trust the most,
The lord, our Savior and Holy Ghost

Come back to me, my elusive one.
Return to our old life.
Be the one who breaks this curse
of the Dementia which has your mind.
Helping you prepare for bed,
I did resent but now instead
work with you, my lovely child,
as you talk to me and smile.
The smile from many years gone by,
as I ask the Lord, please tell me why.

I saw the fear in your eyes.
You are not smart, not even wise.
Who in the World is your coach?
You cast aspersions, when you lie.
Don't be a "bully." Don't even try,
for your reputation has said Goodbye.

"What's going one?" is often said,
when you go out and "Break Bread."
Breaking bread? What does it mean?
To have a conversation with a friend,
is a good way, which will lend
itself to share your precious time
and in an effort to make this rhyme.