Is it my lot in life
to want that which cannot be
to want things others deem too difficult
but yet seem simple unto me

Is it that I'm too willing
or unthinking in my haste
that I see little point in waiting
or have less time to waste

For everyone thats in my life
who came along and chose to stay
I wish I'd known them longer
even if just one more day

for when I shuffle off my mortal coils
and the time comes to depart
you'll find you cannot add time at the end
only at the start

what else but a poem
can take you from this place
to somewhere else in history
somewhere else in space
to a time of greater happiness
or the depths of deep despair
just think of an emotion
there's a poem to take you there
there are no oils and no canvas
yet a picture they do paint
battles of good and evil
portraits of sinners or of saints
they carry messages of wisdom
and hope to those in need
so next time you want to travel
then its poems you should read

when I ask who are you
please don't tell me what you do
for you may as well burst into tears and cry

for to tell me what you do
instead of telling me bout you
is to say what you fear losing when you die

tell what it is that lights your fire
and sends those flames a rising higher
give me a secret about you I can keep

tell me what you mean by love
describe who fits you like a glove
and then tell me all the things that make you weep

tell me about your dreams
and all thats in between
tell me all the different places you would go

but what I want most of all
as the evening shadows fall
is to learn something that even you dont know

I know that last one's hard
but if we just show our cards
we'll have years together in which we will find out

but if you keep them to your chest
never risk and never rest
the only constant thing will be the doubt

so tell me who you are
and show me every scar
spare me nothing for I cannot know enough

and I will give you all thats me
even the things you cannot see
all I ask is you look after them my love

There's a reason there's a path outside your door
that leads to a road
that leads to an interstate,
that leads to an airport.

And there's a reason that planes fly from that airport
to one near here.

Same reason that airport has a road
that leads to a highway
a highway that they are repairing as we speak
that leads to my town
to a path that leads to my door

And its not just coincidence.

Any more than its coincidence that you are reading this.

Let us fill this notebook,
with the words we dare not speak.
Of a love that is forbidden,
lest the havoc it would wreak.

For now we'll keep it secret,
a place to rendezvous,
where you can talk of me,
and I can talk of you.

A place to ask the questions,
normal lovers get to ask.
Only ours will be handwritten,
such is the nature of our task.

A place to write sweet nothings,
and lines of loving prose,
to share our private jokes,
and act like everybody knows.

We'll take turns to enter something,
for each month we are apart.
Consider this my entry,
your turn to grab a pen and start.

But one day we'll take this notebook,
sit together, look within,
and on that day I hope we find,
this single entry found therein.

WHAT IF TIME IS RUNNING OUT?

What if time is running out, there's so much I've yet to do
see the sunrise in the desert, watch it set from Kathmandu

Meditate in Angkor Wat, eat Sushi in Hong Kong
its been nearly 40 years now, you think she changed while I was gone

Scuba dive the Barrier Reef, go snowboarding and live
Make my peace with everyone, because there's nothing to forgive

Explore India like locals do, travel on top the train
armed with my black umbrella, just in case it starts to rain

Pay my parents back for everything, for all the love they shared
Find a way to tell them thank you, that does justice to how they cared

To show my son how much I love him, and how proud of him I am
and how that once scared little boy, has turned into a man.

Tell my sister she's the best there is, that I am proud of her
and ask for her forgiveness, that I was not the brother she deserved

So, what if time is running out, there's so much I haven't done
there's one more thing left on my list, to see if you're the one.

Each day I get the gift of time
and here's what I do
I spend it in so many ways
and not always how I choose

I spend maybe a quarter of it
sleeping in my bed
all tolled an hour eating
its good for you I read

then there is the work thing
its not the thing that I like best
I write poetry and do my chores
and tend to waste the rest

Of the ways I spend my gifts
one thing is always true
the part that I enjoy the most
is the time I spend with you