We walk in evening, in the hills,
the trail is rocky, somewhat rough;
it climbs along a ridgetop,
steep, but not too tough.
We stride with certain measure,
the air is breezy, cool and clean,
we leave the worldly cares behind,
below, the grass is getting green.
A little hike, into the blue,
scattered clouds, dots of white;
the mountains turning purple,
with the diminished light.
An old man and his dog,
enjoying the day and life;
with close companionship and love,
escaping the daily strife.
Our lives are but a shadow,
soon we'll be gone; tomorrow;
blessed to share the end of time,
of happiness and sorrow.

Don't write to me of love
it's failed me way too much
left me hurt and angry
left me in its clutch;
I give it only mixed reviews
there's something that is lacking
why do I lose at love?
it always sends me packing;
Unanswered questions left
I'm puzzled by their meaning
I'm confused I do confess
I miss its careful screening;
Don't speak of love to me
it makes my heart to racing
seeing that I'm left alone
to feel the pain I'm facing;
Don't toss me any breadcrumbs
I've had my fill of feast
of silly dilly romance
that lurking constant beast.

Have you listened to the wind?
then you know its song
melodies that no one knows
to you alone belong.

Have you listened to its cries?
then you know of sorrow
moans that whisper in the air
that no one else can borrow.

Have you heard its quiet thoughts?
when you're stopped and still
upon the meadow, soft at dawn
or high upon a hill.

Have you heard its breezy sighs?
that ruffles through your hair?
that soft and lingering embrace
on a day that's sweet and fair.

Have you listened to the wind?
did you hear its message clear?
all right's with the world
that you and I hold dear.

Old age doesn't slow you down
it speeds things up -
you forget things, you laugh at
certain happenings without forethought;
you drool in your sleep
talk to yourself a lot more.
Your taste-buds has memory lapses.
You watch Family Feud and consider that
appropriate entertainment.
The highlight of your day begins
and ends
at the mailbox.
(who writes letters anymore?)
Older friends you know
appear in the obituaries now and then.
Famous people that you thought
were long dead are starring in
a new television series.
You've now outlived six dogs,
and four marriages.
Your hair is gray instead of
reddish-blond (all over).
You soak your dentures instead of
brushing your teeth.
Change the batteries in your hearing aids
on a fairly regular schedule.
Put your glasses on now to read.
Take several little naps during
the sunshine hours...and
thank God for another day of life.

Always, You were with me
when paths were long and rough
when I failed to hear Your voice
when life was hard and tough.
When life had little meaning
when daydreams were obscured
I fought against the system
and not once was I heard.
Always, You were with me
in nights where nothing mattered
in rage where anger ruled
and lives were often shattered.
When the wind, it blew too strongly
when it stormed most every day
when there was little comfort
when bitter moments had their say.
Always, You were with me
through the thick and thin
but You saved me from the pit
and from my life of sin.

You cannot start again
what's gone is gone-
time forgets its place
and moves on.

Days still bright and sunny
nights still dark and long-
strangers passing by
with life's old sweet song.

Love is buried and forgotten
in a place you can't recall-
memory fades with aging
like the trees that grow so tall.

Someone says that time is healing
but you do not find it so-
words are often meant to heal
but they're wrong I think you know.

All but bitterness has vanished
in the void that swallows all-
in the echoes of your mind
when you woke up from your fall.

They have stolen Your identity
preaching false news of the gospel
made up stories of their own
of things that are not right;
by the works of Satan,
the devil himself,
the prince of darkness -
who loves the cloak of night.
Making the day of sun as worship
saying Easter instead of Passover
turning Christmas into profit
saying He (Christ) was born that day;
if you look into His word
you see that's it's absurd;
He was Autumn's child
not in the winter, no way.
Man pursues the world
with traditions of his own
unaware of who it is
that sits upon the throne.
False teachers teaching lies
they truly are deceived;
and God looks down and laughs
though He is much aggrieved.