That loveliest of smiles,
That cute, silly grin,
The love that I see,
Coming from within.

You walk with grace,
No matter the time,
So I must say,
Wherever the place,
The love I feel
Will be set in space.

Thus, you my friend,
That's what you are,
A beacon of light;
The shiniest; a star.

You listen to me
As I relate my fear
And comfort is brought,
By your being near.

Dear heart, please stay,
Bring me your strength,
To face every day
With grace from God,
Will keep fear away.

Those precious memories
of joy and glee,
remind me of why
I love thee.
The life we loved,
that life we had
has left us now,
but don't be sad.
For no matter what
will happen now,
we will manage to
stay together,
me and you.

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.

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

For once in a lifetime
Of memory filled days.
There comes a moment,
Emerging from the haze,
Of all the stored visions
And in many ways,
Will always be there
Until the end of life's phase.

Want not. Don't you worry
Slow you down,
What's the hurry?

My mind is going
I've lost command.
My feet not moving.
Stuck in the sand.

Sand all around,
Creeping in on me.
I must run
But cannot flee.

A riddle you say?
That might be the case.
All that I know is,
I must leave this place.

Here I sit, not looking pretty
Trying to write words for this ditty.
Must I awake, during these early
Morning hours, 3:30 AM, thoughts are swirly.
I need to return to my bed
Letting the pillow cover my head.
So off I go, as quickly, you see
Into the bed that is calling me.

My mind is swirling, racing about,
Trying to be quiet, with nary a chance.
I have pen in hand, writing the thoughts
That are in my head. I try to write
Them down to paper, fast as can be,
For it is now a quarter past three.
That's in the A. M.
Even early for me.

The impact of this life of ours
Is measured, not in years but in hours.