December kisses are -
cold and frozen touches;
pre-winter winds of frost,
that chills as well as clutches.

It bites the face with glee,
the breeze, it nips the ear;
reminding me this season,
is well along I fear.

Next, the ice will form,
in icicles and puddles;
snow will filter down,
before it sticks and muddles.

Freezing comes in quick,
the early chilling dawn;
we dress in several layers,
what it is that we put on.

December kisses are -
frigid, frosty. numbing;
for awhile, we're Eskimos,
for we know, that soon, it's coming.

I've had my fill of turkey,
perhaps a bit too much;
too much pumpkin pie,
sweet potatoes in my clutch.
And now, the stomach pays,
for the act of overeating;
if manners were the norm,
I'm afraid that I'd be cheating.
Why do we over do the things,
things we love and cherish?
and when the sleep does come,
it's often quite nightmarish.
Food will do that to you,
your dreams become bizzare;
the leftovers you take home,
you don't leave them in the car.
Another slice of pie won't hurt,
it slides right down, like jelly;
and later when, your aching,
it leads back to the belly.
Oh,  Thanksgiving is a beast,
with too much food and laughter;
for we neglect to overlook,
what comes to us soon after.

Think of a world
without some love;
of earth -
without a song;
of life -
without a lover,
of where your heart
belongs.
Think of a kiss
without much passion,
of hugs -
that don't feel right;
of a limpid, shallow
handshake,
that doesn't feel
quite tight.
Think of a friend,
that turns his back,
and looks the other way;
think of a child
without much laughter,
that chooses not
to play.
Think of a sky without
the stars,
no moon to light
the dark;
think of a silent, empty
world,
without a meadowlark.
Think of a world,
that has no God,
only man's "great" reason;
only man at the controls,
in this and every season.
Is there such a horrid world
when love is no solution?
then face those days of
endlessness,
with man-made home
pollution.

November quirky winds,
blow warm, and then so cold;
it's autumn, fast receding,
it's winter getting bold.
Holidays keep spinning,
the shopping, the spending;
advertisement heaven,
is close to never-ending.
November kills the leaves,
in spurts, in numbing fury;
the people flock to malls,
in too much of a hurry.
November hides the sun,
in shadow and in darkness;
it kills the budding flower,
as it displays its starkness.

The Lord's my Hope and my Salvation,
with Him, I do not need another thing;
He is the head of each and every nation,
in Him alone,  does my voice sing.

In the green grass of home, I often lie,
and in the face of death I do not fear;
at ease, by the waters that flow by,
He's in my heart and He is always near.

He keeps me from my wicked enemies,
at His table, a feast He does prepare;
though they are close, they cannot see,
they have no God, and can only stare.

He anoints me with His precious love,
and my glass is filled up to the brim;
my thoughts are floating there, above,
and I have contentment just in Him.

Knowing faith will be my chosen path,
and that His mercy in me will not fail;
that alone will keep me from His wrath,
through all the mountains and the vales.

Can't we send some turkey,
to those with hunger pains?
to fill their empty bellies,
by air or ship or trains?
Can't we share some greens?
or scrumptious pumpkin pie?
or do we loosen belts too tight;
and let our wishes die?
Too much meat we feed our faces,
portions drying on the plate;
while those that starve remain,
and waste what we deem fate.
The biggest day of eating's here;
we go past the full-up mark;
while children lie in  waiting,
their bodies, gaunt and stark.
Thanksgiving means the act of sharing,
not how much we can put down;
please give away what you can't eat,
the folks that need, are all around.
Too much the fork and cutting knife,
too much the sweets we gobble fast;
as if the food might disappear,
as if the sweets won't last.

I will send some sun to you,
you can use it when you choose;
it's air-mailed just for you,
and only you,  to use.

You can save it for a rainy morn,
or when the clouds are gray;
or when the fog is present,
it will brighten up your day.

I'll send some flowers too,
can't hurt to have a rose;
or a daffodil or two -
so pleasant for the nose.

Best off all, I'll send some love,
you'll feel it when it comes;
the type that's always with you -
and guess what? it never runs.

Rare and treasured gifts,
for those that feel left out;
that still try hard to figure,
what this life is all about.

If only you had held me close,
then I wouldn't feel the pain;
but then, you seldom hold me,
so I'm left with little gain.

If only you had smiled for me,
for something I did right;
in place of empty arms,
through long and lonely nights.

If only you had held my hand,
when I sensed danger near;
when I faced the coming day,
of a senseless, unknown fear.

If only you had given love,
in the quiet of an evening;
if you'd only turned to look,
to see that I was grieving.

If only you had held me tight,
when feet beneath me swayed;
if you'd only paid attention,
why then...I may have stayed.

1959, I thumbed my way to Utah,
froze my **** at Marble Falls;
in the frigid night, so cold,
I think I froze my *****.

Didn't get much sleep at all,
I tossed and turned, all chilled;
my initial hitch-hike in the west,
I certainly wasn't thrilled.

Mind if I smoke I asked the gent,
Yes,  he said, I do;
six hours later, he dropped me off,
shoulda seen the smoke I blew!

I think Utah is for Mormons,
like Brigham Young and such;
can't smoke, can't drink coffee,
can't do too little or too much.

I hit Las Vegas proper,
as I was hitchin' back;
at midnight, on Fremont St.,
it was anything but black.

It was daylight -  but,
I never saw the sun;
folks were gallivanting -
looked like they were having fun.

I continued on, to Phoenix,
to where the heat was fine;
stayed far away from Marble Falls,
for a lengthy, longish time.

When I heard your voice, I smiled,
you were telling me that you were mine;
my heart was comforted and warmed,
outside it rained, but also, sun did shine.

Sunshine in the rain, is rare and lovely,
both reflect the nature of one's life;
without rain, we've no flowers,
without sun, there's always strife.

Your my balance in this old world,
the gyroscope that rights my way;
the special one my heart is drawn to,
that highlights,  my ordinary day.

When I heard your voice, I smiled,
you were telling me you loved me so;
my soul was touched and satisfied,
because your love, it makes me whole.

When I heard your voice, I smiled,
you laughed and told me foolish things;
the crazy way that people fall in love,
the crazy glue that true love brings.

I swear, I never saw it coming,
just the note that said goodbye;
now I've left with only questions,
who and what and where and why.

I searched for answers, there were none,
no pieces of a puzzle could I form;
left with nothing I could hold,
I could only weep and mourn.

Mourn for what we had and lost,
mourn for love that disappeared;
mourn for happiness, now gone,
inheriting all things I feared.

In the silence of the night I cried,
my heart and soul, they were in pain;
I wondered if I could hold together,
wondered if you'd return again.

Love hurts too much when it is over,
from joy, it falls to desperate grief;
the hurt is, it might last forever,
and that this pain will never cease.

The campground is deserted,
it's quiet and serene;
no crowds of noisy people,
in truth, there's no one seen.

I scout each hidden site,
to see which one is best;
but they all look the same,
can't tell one from the rest.

Eighteen bucks for one night,
the price keeps going higher;
my camping days are fading,
to the tents, I don't aspire.

Old age has softened me,
a bed is more my speed;
the refrigerator's there,
and has all I'll ever need.

The campground is deserted,
it's closed for this fall season;
there's only ghosts of campers past,
that slept there for a reason.

In the mountains I can
lose my thoughts,
escape from daily care;
at peace with sun and shadow,
knowing He is there.

To guide my wayward steps,
to keep me on His road;
to lift from off my shoulders,
my weary, heavy, load.

In the hillsides I am lost,
yet my heart can find the way;
my soul is filled with love,
for the living of this day.

For the blessings of His Word,
for the promises He gives;
for a quiet, restful mind,
for the faith in Him that lives.

In the ridges of the peaks,
and wherever I do roam;
I can say I'm never lost...
He always walks me home.

Oh - I must speak of love,
for that's what you are to me;
and I must speak of joy,
for without it love can't be.

I anticipate the morning,
of the coming daily fare;
just knowing I am loved,
just knowing you are there.

That's why I talk of love,
for it nourishes the soul;
it invigorates the body,
and with it, we are whole.

I must speak of happiness,
that nothing foul can mar;
it's a sunshine of the heart,
it's the glitter of some star.

Now, I speak of your love,
a glowing, constant force;
touching me through space,
as it runs its steadfast course.

Take me to the higher ground,
where breezes always blow;
where the air is ten times fresher,
than what is down below.

Let me climb to heaven,
to touch the azure sky;
to where the sun is brighter,
to where the eagles cry.

To where the traffic is no more,
where sounds fade fast away;
to the quiet and the beauty,
of a perfect autumn day.

Let me view the mountains,
that surround the happy hills;
that envelope the valleys,
of weathered rocks and rills.

Take me to that higher ground,
where forever, I am lost;
unknown, a hermit of the land,
where waves are never tossed.

I will wait for you -
in any kind of weather;
in the coldness or the heat,
as long as we're together.

I'll stand by your side,
through good times or the bad;
forgiving all the hurts,
or things that made us sad.

I offer up my sunshine -
to brighten up your day;
I offer up my kisses,
in hopes that you will stay.

I give to you unfiltered love -
to do with what you will;
my hand to hold, as we climb,
the up's of daily hills.

Never will I leave you -
you can always count on me;
you're my undying partner,
until eternity.

What's so special about your love?
I've had several in the waning past;
they all eroded over time,
do think that yours will last?

Are you not like all the others?
fading love that disappears?
holding back the flaming passion,
through long successive years

Giving pecks that one call kisses,
hugs that lose their quick embrace;
the fleeting smile that's fleeting faster,
from the look upon their face.

Things they used to do together,
they now do...separately;
the ball and chain is heavier,
than once it ever used to be.

Why should your love be so special?
what can remove my fearful doubt?
your cherry happiness's contagious,
and I can't wait...to find it out!

In this mad world,
we love and ask for peace;
for wars to end,
for hate, to cease.
We ask for joy,
and quiet times;
when we can read
a book or someone's rhyme.
In this mad world,
we pray for no more killing;
it tears the soul apart,
the death bell keeps on ringing.
We seek the solace,
of the love of others;
before we douse the light,
and slip underneath the covers.
In this mad world,
we have to hold our candles high;
to fight against the darkness,
of the nightly skies.

They taken our last sanctuary,
it's become a shooting range;
where everyone's a victim,
by someone that's deranged.

The young, the old, the middle-aged,
they're all targets to the gun;
like sitting ducks in carnivals,
they've nowhere else to run.

Death to those who worship,
in prayer and meditation;
what does it say of us?
this place we call a nation?

There's no safety, anywhere,
inside, outside, in schools;
only random mayhem,
wherein the chaos rules.

They taken our last refuge
nothing left is sacred;
only mournful cries,
only abject hatred

Do you want to be,
in God's great
coming kingdom?
Then my friend,
He wants you
in His fold;
there's security in
believing,
you can forget everything
that you've been told.
They're only lies and
false deception,
told by the father of
all lies;
the truth is never in him,
he longs to hear
your moans
and cries.
There is a kingdom
coming to
this fractured earth,
that will erase all pain
and sorrow;
that will bring peace
to all the world,
it's coming soon
my friends,
perhaps tomorrow.
God calls to all,
but few do hear,
they follow other gods,
in vain;
they need to open up
their ears
their hearts and minds,
to know the one true God,
who soon will reign.

You showed me truth,
when I had doubt;
you took my world,
changed it all about.

I turned from sin,
to ride the glory train;
and I've no doubt,
I'd do it all again.

You picked me up,
when I was down and out;
when once I whimpered,
I now will stand and shout.

I now have shelter,
from my ugly past;
I now have substance,
something that will last.

I gave my burden up,
You carried it for me;
and offered love and joy,
plus all eternity.

Thank You Lord, for this day,
for quiet meditation;
for sins You've washed away,
for joy... and for elation.
For the blessings I receive,
for health and happiness;
for strength when ere I grieve,
for fortitude when I have less.
Thank You Lord, for this night,
that gives us restful sleep;
for guiding us to do what's right,
as Your promises we keep.
Let us always praise Your name,
in any situation;
for being our continual flame,
in this Godless, stricken nation.
Thank You Lord, for Your Word,
that as a light, shines through;
for precious love that's always heard,
wrapped in arms we seldom knew.

Never though I'd be a poet,
but then the words just came;
some you can't obscure,
there a like a burning flame.
Soon, you've lost control,
so you've got to let them come;
or they interfere with life;
till you've become undone.
Till your a ragged mess,
that walks and talks and sleeps;
but you don't own a soul,
you just sit around and seep.
With poetry I found my soul,
now I give it my best voice;
not because it matters,
but because I have no choice.
I don't relish being soulless,
I'm in need of God, like you;
perhaps you do not notice,
but you will, before you're through.

Love comes in many forms,
in a song or in a poem;
in a photo or a dream,
at work, at play, at home.
The beating of your heart's desire,
framed by love and perfection;
the pulse that quickens,
...until rejection.
The tongue that stumbles,
when he talks;
his sudden lurching,
when he walks;
his confidence,  once mattered,
now falls,  lies shattered;
he smiles, instead of speaking,
his body odor... reeking;
he's embarrassed and struck dumb,
his mind and tongue, now numb.
Love comes in many forms,
in silent words and shyness;
but next time that they meet,
he is at his very finest.
Love comes in many forms,
we take what we are given;
and do our best to give love.,
that's passionate and driven.

Strange, sitting on the porch,
at six,  in the evening time;
skies have gathered darkness,
as I start, my budding rhyme.
October's spell,  nigh over,
ahead, lurks gray November,
cool winds and leafless trees,
the sensations,  I remember.
I wish fall would never end,
alas!  nothing lives forever;
life-it's like a breeze blown leaf,
whatever its endeavor.
Pages opened, pages closed,
the book of souls,   roll on;
with laughter, tears and love,
the remnants of its song.
Hold fast each golden moment,
of its lovely, shining gift;
that stands above all others,
and with the heart,  does lift.

There are no shadows in Your love, Lord,
it shines so bright and beautiful for me;
that darkness hides from sight and being,
as it cannot stand the radiance I'm seeing.

There are no lies that trip the troubled tongue,
no deceit is found within the beating heart;
Your truth is like honey to the thirsty soul;
keeping all Your ways, it makes me whole.

There's only peace that passes understanding,
unknown to those that think they're always right;
they disclaim God;  they are but prideful fools,
unknown to them, there is a God that rules.

There are safe waters, in Your mighty harbors,
security and shelter, from this stumbling world;
unlike faithless men, that lack contented mirth,
of God's creation, and of the passage of their birth.

There are no shadows in Your love, Lord,
just the light that bears Your sacred name;
just the brightness of Your saving Word,
that illuminated me when I first heard.

Two hours in my waking day,
I drink my second cup of joe;
my synapses fire slowly -
with still a ways to go.

The darkness yet prevails,
no rosy fingers seen;
only quiet in this house,
a tranquil, ghostly scene.

A single light's enough,
to brighten up the room;
to scatter blackness nil,
to rid the morning's gloom.

A shower's in my mind,
not too hot and not to cold,
to freshen up the body,
for the day that's to enfold.

A rhyme to start the engine,
the sparkplugs of the mind;
to get the juices flowing,
for the coming daily grind.

Once we were a Christian nation,
close to God and full of love;
now we've cast Him out,
like a worn discarded glove.

Thought we could do without Him,
said doing good, was good enough;
thought our own way was the right way,
we've found out the road is rough.

We've all turned away from God,
we now worship different things;
like money over Jesus -
are we shocked by what it brings?

We're all headed for disaster,
it's too late to hit the brakes;
it's too late to turn around,
for God and heaven's sake.

Once we dwelt with God,
said prayers and offered praise;
but from grace, we fell,
in our final coming days.

I called to say hello,
a thousand miles away;
I said my brief hello,
and your answer made my day.

It took away the rain,
it took away my fear;
when I heard your voice,
so very close,  so near.

I called to say hello,
on my weary way back home;
tired of the miles I'd come,
bored of the restless roam.

You voice was sweet and pleasant,
like a balm to jangled nerves;
such is the voice of love,
and the emotion that it serves.

I called to say hello,
from across the neighborhood;
much closer than we've been,
from the distance that we've stood.

In the fast lane,
life goes by too quickly;
the landscape blurs.
I gaze till I feel sickly.

I used to get that way,
on the circular merry-go-round;
I'd get off and fall to earth,
back then, it was, soft ground.

Now the earth's grown hard,
I bend, but seldom give;
the body is more rigid,
each year that I do live.

I walk with caution,  on
ground that's cold and icy,
my footsteps planted firmly,
they know each step is dicey.

I take no unknown risks,
I like my life too much;
to throw caution to the wind,
wouldn't help me much.

It used to be,
New England had
fall magic...
of autumn colors
that were unsurpassed;
In Vermont,
solitude and serenity;
Alas - those magic days
have passed.
Two-lane roads,
are filled with
speeding cars;
at least, at night,
you still can see...
the stars.
It used to be,
the pace of life
was slow;
today - it's hectic;
the only quiet now,
is winter's snow.
It used to be,
there was peace,
within the village,
where I would go;
but that was in
the magic of
one's early youth...
decades... and ages,
not so long ago.

In this last day of September,
there are things to remember;
fading of the summer's heat,
scents of autumn, oh so sweet.

Shadows grow a little quicker,
as the sun begins to flicker;
the dawn is slow in rising,
each morn a bit surprising.

The air grows crisp and cool,
and still I am but nature's fool;
happy in the changing of a season,
not for any certain rhyme or reason.

Autumn comes with dying themes,
in its multicolored schemes;
in the falling of the leaves,
form proud majestic maple trees.

September slips in grand repose,
with each death of one red rose;
giving way to autumn's song,
as the change of life moves on.

No love is ever lost,
though thrown about
and often tossed;
it will stay forever
in the heart;
no love is ever gone,
when once again,
there is no song,
to brighten lovers,
now apart.
Memory is fraught
with dreams and nightmares,
with hope and despair,
wondering if one cares;
love is seldom steady or
predictable;
it can cause delusions,
often despicable,
temporary insanity,
inflated vanity,
leading to profanity.
Cursing love is not
the way to end it,
forgiveness  paves the
mode to send it;
absence of the voice,
will often end it.
But, no love is ever over,
the mind cannot forget her
tender shoulder,
the one you used to lean upon;
never is forgotten,
once it's gone.

The only place to kneel,
is before the coming King;
co-creator of the world,
that makes the heart to sing.

Don't kneel before the flag,
stand up straight and proud;
and when your hear the anthem,
sing out the song...aloud.

That flag is full of freedom.
to those that gave their soul;
for those that can't come back,
to keep our nation whole.

You disrespect the glory,
of the ones that kept us free;
when you refuse to stand,
and rest on one poor knee.

Don't kneel before the flag,
it's a sign you do not care;
it's a sign of your indifference,
to those that truly care.

The daily fight is never easy,
so much that's evil in the air;
so much, the world's temptation,
don't let it catch you - unaware.

Keep the faith and keep the hope,
you must endure, until the end;
be patient,  kind,  forgiving,
and like the willow tree - just bend.

What matters is the path you travel,
the straight and narrow way's the best;
the road to hell is broad and wide,
no need to follow all the rest.

Be content, whatever your position,
whether you are rich -  or not;
take heed of God's commandments,
and the measures He has taught.

Then you can say you've won the race,
kept the faith and finished strong;
then reside in God's great family,
and learn with others, His new song.

Friendship never dies,
good friends never quit;
they stay always in the heart,
once the bond is lit.

Once the chord is tied,
that bind never breaks;
their word is never broken,
however high the stakes.

Friendship never wavers,
through every kind of weather;
whatever happens to them,
they always stay together.

They welcome you in love,
they welcome you in gladness;
and when the sorrow strikes,
they share with you, the sadness.

Friendship never dies;
it's always on display;
it's there just when you need it,
for that is friendship's way.

When the daylight fades to night,
when the sounds of traffic cease;
when the moon's a slice of heaven,
that's when my soul's at peace.

When the stars cry out in silence
when the darkness hides the light;
when sweet slumber covers me,
then I sense the world's all right.

When your love forgives my sinning,
when your strength, it makes me weak;
when I praise your name in prayer,
that's the solace that I seek.

When the wonder of your name,
becomes my only choice;
in the quiet of the room,
I hear your precious voice.

When the blessings flow like water,
when your grace becomes my song;
then the pace of life is pleasure,
as the days of life are long.

Love has many faces,
which one does hers show?
if it's one of happiness,
then that's the one I know.

Love has many voices,
does her laughter always flow?
if joy is in her nature,
then she's the one I know.

Love has many moods.
is her peace the wind that blows?
is her manner ever pleasant?
that one, my heart knows.

Love has many meanings,
in her eyes, that special glow?
does her kisses satisfy?
then she's the love I know.

Love has many waters,
is her love a tender row?
is she a lovely fountain?
then she's the love I know.

One day, I'll write a poem,
that captures my true thoughts;
I'll then surprise myself,
by words that I have wrought.
Nothing too elaborate,
nothing too mundane;
an emotion of the heart,
to keep me sound and sane.
The touch of wind upon the cheek,
the hide and seek of shade;
the chirp of birds and people,
the music that we've played.
The laugh of happy children,
the joy of loving souls;
each upon an unknown stage,
with varied, different roles.
The love that is forever,
the kindness of  a friend;
the bond that's never broken,
the tie that never ends.

September morning;
bright, fresh and clean;
autumn's in the air,
felt,  but yet, unseen.

The dawn is past,
the day is nigh;
I greet the sunshine,
with a joyous sigh.

I drink in deeply,
the breath of early morn;
view the placid lake,
the sunflowers adorn.

Jax tugs gently on his leash,
the spring is in his walk;
he nudges grass aside,
among the flower's stalk.

Man and his best friend,
on their daily stroll;
each on his own path,
each with his own goal.

I was amazed,  when long ago,
I saw my boyhood home again;
it was so much smaller than before,
or is it the mind that often rends?

The roads had shrunk, the bridges too,
was it really miles,  to the sandy beach?
things were not so far away,  but,
seemed well within my eager reach.

I used to think the world was mighty big,
the village miles and miles from end to end;
but what I once thought so far away,
was almost there, behind each shadowed bend.

Now that I have left and gone out west,
things are getting bigger - like before,
the sky goes on forever, not a tent at all,
the horizon, now unseen, from my front door.

The world is only larger from perspective,
how it's really viewed from where you are;
the studded lit-up skies, they look so close!
but it's an endless journey to the nearest star.

Keep me from this world Lord,
it garners too much sorrow;
keep me from the devil's pull,
with hope of God's tomorrow.

Where dreams are made reality,
where there's comfort for the soul;
away from stress and turmoil,
where the earth extracts its toll.

Keep me from this world Lord,
from the violence and the pain;
from man's unkind pollution,
I am sick of its refrain.

To where I drink the waters,
from pure and flowing streams;
the fountains of Your knowledge,
that laughs at mankind's schemes.

Keep me from this world Lord,
from the  war cries of the fools;
that don't know the way of peace,
where their kingdom never rules.

If we could cry, like women.
we  might be better off;
if we had the sensitivity,
instead, we'd rather scoff.

Macho pride goes quickly south,
fighting does not solve things;
there's always someone bigger,
faster - in what another foe brings.

Honey gets - what anger doesn't,
a compromise,   and peace;
wrath just clouds the issues,
the fighting does not cease.

Masculinity, is vastly over-rated,
the tree that bends stays well;
don't give way to power,
that creates a living hell.

If we could shed some tears,
are we any less a man?
I think were better for it,
let us try to understand.

Isn't news depressing?
No more window dressing;
it's brutal, insanely sad;
the whole world's gone quite mad.

The North Koreans want to **** us,
there's no one they can soundly trust;
the dreamers now corralled, sent home,
no more in USA to roam.

Born unaware, of any place,
they find their roots are hard to trace;
US babies, raised here, now deported,
don't return, you'll be reported.

Immigrants, at first, widely hailed,
are now the foe;  our policies, failed;
we'll build a wall to keep you out,
you'll simply have to turn about.

We've a president - Mr. Businessman,
he does things we don't understand;
he's not always right, so goes the song,
but by God,    he ain't never wrong!

Good morning Lord,
I arise early to greet
the rising sun;
help me stay on
God's bright path,
on this, my daily run.
Let my praise go forth
to You, in the cool
of dawn;
keep me from all harm,
let my faith in You,
be strong.
Guide my restless feet,
upon the truth I bear;
to keep You in my heart,
and the blessings that
we share.
Let Your light shine through,
to each person that I meet;
where ever it may be,
down any troubled street.
Thank You Lord for this fine day,
with each promise of tomorrow,
to the future of Your kingdom,
where there will be no sorrow.

Age follows me,
like a puppy, all around;
I can't shake its shadow,
we just go round and round.

The days pass by much quicker,
the nights, they come too soon;
and in between, the hours fly,
with a crass mind of its own.

That's life; you cannot slow it down,
trying - it never seems to jell;
I'm running to a different clock,
some days, it's just as well.

With age, comes greater wisdom,
at least that's what they say;
my seriousness has faded,
but I had it-  back in the day.

So, I relish all the sunsets,
that time provides for me;
as I await the final one,
whenever that may be.

You never lose a love,
fragments still remain;
a look, a smile, a laugh,
tears, regret, some pain.
Good outweighs the bad,
except in certain cases;
and often times a blur,
forgotten names and faces.
Some memories die hard,
and those are worst of all;
the giddiness of love,
before the tragic fall.
You never lose a love,
even buried deep inside;
something brings you back,
where once, it did reside.
You never lose a love,
'cause love, it never fails;
it's we that are imperfect,
the bane of all our ails.

You've got to love the moon,
because, by God, it's there;
like a sunrise and a sunset,
you can't help but care.
Let's not forget the sun,
it shines for me and you;
though sometimes grey,
it's often (more-times) blue.
You got to love the planets,
they hang for you and I;
amidst the sparkling stars,
on dark velvet screens of sky.
And what about the waterfalls,
that fall from the great heights;
into a pool... spectacular.
one of God's great sights.
You got to love the mountains,
that wear a crown of snow;
and in the distance, radiate,
a different kind of glow.
Whose the artist that creates,
such beauty for our pleasure?
that stores in us sweet memories,
we simply have to treasure?
He's called by many names,
like God, the Supreme Being;
By Himself... responsible,
for the loveliness we're seeing.

Forget iambic pentameter,
or rhyming every line;
your a poet or your not,
if you think you are-that's fine.

Forget the mystic musings,
let's call a *****, a *****;
just give it all you've got,
hey, we're not getting paid.

Forget the morbid statements,
they don't get you anywhere;
and if they ever did -
who the hell would care?

Call the glowing rose, a rose,
not some flaky, foolish flower;
call a downpour- heavy rain,
not some puny shower.

Call it love or call it hate,
not some stupid choice;
but shout it from the mountaintop,
in your strongest voice!

Take the heat of day and
soak it in,
till you feel like,  you are
done;
then hurry to the shade,
and then,   ignore the sun.
Summer is a scorcher, in
these parts,
it's a likelihood you may
combust;
whatever way you go -
you'll turn to dust.
The skin will blister, then
turn red,
the wounds will seep, like
syrup, flowing;
you'll blister like a
ripened peach,
if you're not knowing.
Whatever happens, do not
fall asleep,
when you wake, you'll be
a lobster...red;
boiled to a crisp, outside,
not in a water-bed.
Or better yet,  don't take
that chance,
respect the heat's great
shining wrath;
is an hour way too long
or not?
I've given you the facts -
you do the math.