I got there by an oblique course,
Not a usual one at all.
It was mine, and mine alone.

All the blame and all the glory,
My own trek across the  seasons of my allotted time

Humbled by the not knowing
When it all will end.

It used to be on a rocking horse
Gallop-a-trot, gallop-a-trot

Then on an imaginary hobby horse
Away, far away
Adventures calling

On the pinto mare, the gentlest one of them all.
Miles disappeared beneath four sturdy  hooves.
The grasslands called them out as one.

And now she sits, with eyes closed
Remembering sweet remembrance of days of youth
Rocking, steadfast rocking.

That's how they described her bones-
As fragile as porous eggshells.
Her bones broke, and THEN she fell,
NOT the other way around.

For Heaven's sake, don't tell her,  
That following all the Dr's advice
Got her no where...
No where but falling down

I love the words, their innuendo, the lilt and cadence,
I play with meter and beat, and search for exact, right, precise meanings.
I suffuse and enthuse and pass on the love of words,
Sharing with young ones the magic of expression.

Until now.

The words are meaningless and cannot express.
I only sit beside you and we breathe in tandem.
Quiet. Without words.

I love the words, their innuendo, the lilt and cadence,
I play with meter and beat, and search for exact, right, precise meanings.
I suffuse and enthuse and pass on the love of words,
Sharing with young ones the magic of expression.

Until now.

The words are meaningless and cannot express.
I only sit beside you and we breathe in tandem.
Quiet. Without words.