Under the light blue morning sky,
in the wood’s, I can pick out the oak trees,
Their leaves, brown, always last to fall,
As I turn my neck, two deer walk by.
The new grass, natures carpet, beautiful green,
Looking over the rails, of my back deck,
A beautiful nature scene, my ideas I brought to life,
Over the years, I lost my siblings, parents, and wife,
During long hard - working hours, I dreamed,
Of retiring, to happy days, I had a plan to travel,
Across the USA, in my dreams, A couple of houses,
Then to explore, a new RV. Everything paid,
No credit cards, or any loans, it’s a beautiful,
Saturday morning, I’m living all alone, no one,
To share with, or call on the telephone.
It’s hard to see, wiping tears off my face,
Like a lost puppy, they follow me to every place,
As I ride on planet earth, around in space,
The only real dream, for now, I have, waiting for God,
To call me home, from this life, in the human race.
The Original Tom Maxwell 12/4/2021 AD
Dec 4, 2021
Dec 4, 2021 at 8:46 AM UTC
Under the light blue morning sky,
in the wood’s, I can pick out the oak trees,
Their leaves, brown, always last to fall,
As I turn my neck, two deer walk by.
The new grass, natures carpet, beautiful green,
Looking over the rails, of my back deck,
A beautiful nature scene, my ideas I brought to life,
Over the years, I lost my siblings, parents, and wife,
During long hard - working hours, I dreamed,
Of retiring, to happy days, I had a plan to travel,
Across the USA, in my dreams, A couple of houses,
Then to explore, a new RV. Everything paid,
No credit cards, or any loans, it’s a beautiful,
Saturday morning, I’m living all alone, no one,
To share with, or call on the telephone.
It’s hard to see, wiping tears off my face,
Like a lost puppy, they follow me to every place,
As I ride on planet earth, around in space,
The only real dream, for now, I have, waiting for God,
To call me home, from this life, in the human race.
The Original Tom Maxwell 12/4/2021 AD
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