I'm now just an old and brittle guy-
A slow deliberate gait when once I used to fly-
In the rear view mirror I wave at my youth-
Fifty-three this year, growing long in the tooth-
I can no longer portray a man made of steel-
Cause' unoiled and rusty is the way that I feel-
Acceptance of this reality, was my toughest fight yet-
I lived a life hopefully that I soon will never forget.

Morning stars together sing
as jays of blue
take flight on wing.
The breeze is limp
as oaks stand still.
The greying sky with rain now fills.
A rainbow falls
upon the ground.
A colorful thud without a sound.
As nightfall crawls across the moon.
I stir my coffee
with spoon in June.

be sure
to enjoy
your dreams
because
reality
is harsh
enough.

Some folks are just broken mosaics that
need not be fractured and broken
further

When I look up towards the stars, I may see something much different than you.
I see everlasting serenity.
I see me walking down Hampshire street, hand in hand with my Great Grandmother Sarah on our way to Nativity church when I was just a little boy.

I see,
a place void of anxiousness.
A place void of fear.
A place of long last ease and rest.
A tranquil active creek with subtle sounds of water flowing.
A place where the lions and the sheep play.
I see Heaven and a place for all beautiful hearts to forever stay.

Loss.

Loss is not some figment of our imaginations.

Loss is waking up every morning and feeling that there is something very important that is missing.

In the pit of your stomach.
In the deepest recesses of your heart.

At the forefront of your mind.
Loss is an extreme emotion.

Because loss, is something that you know that you can never get back again.

Loss can leave you lost and nomadicly meandering unfamiliar paths most days and nights.

But,
but in those moments that the sun still shines,
shine....
shine brighter than it!

Make those around you always reach for their sunglasses.

The grey skies will always be there and during those, let those that we have lost, rain down on us so that for those moments, we may hide our tears.

Loss, is an emotion more extreme and intense than love.

Because, all that's left is to relive all of the memories of love without a further touch, but to look up into Heaven when we do and smile above.

Time.
Time has taken away so many things in this life but what is its greatest theft?

It has already stolen away the inhales and the exhales that I have left.

It has taken away the lives of some that I wasn't ready  to lose.

It has stolen away my childhood and certainly the days of my youth.

It has taken away my peace and quiet and left me with chaos inside my head.

It has stolen away the words I wake up sweating and mumbling in my bed.

I won't allow it to take my freedom because when I am free that's when I am really me.

And when I am really me is when my heart, my spirt and my soul smile so beamingly.

I like when I feel a smile on my lips instead of my usual frown.

Time is what we make of it for ourselves, and before the sands of time have all run down...

I won't allow time to steal away, my alone time that I crave and have rightly earned.

In my vehicle all by myself just looking around through eyes of so much learned.

Time,

if you take me away,
you take my breath and steal from me the alone time that I seek?

As I fade away,
my tears will be plenty that stream unrelenting down my cheeks.

I've hit that crossroad in my life where that,
I am happy to still be here but,
I would also be just as happy if I weren't.

I've climbed the most intimidating mountains.
I've tread the waters of the angriest rage tossed sea.

"Out to pasture" is where I feel my presence in life has landed me.
Sage, and aged is the curse of the neglected.

Like a morning bird's serenade,
I sing my beautiful unique melody to no one but myself.
My only regret is that I wish that I had a bird that sang a memorable morning's serenade in tune with me.

My love is not for sale.
My love resembles no prison nor jail.

But, nor will I ever try to buy yours.
I can only tell you, true love feels like a summer storm's rain when it pours.

If it's material or gifts you need as proof?
That type of love is a lie, much like the little boy that cried wolf.

Perhaps what you feel then, is just not love at all?
That kind of love can be had by talking to a wall.

What I give is me, something I feel is quite valuable.
A love, a friendship, a person that is anything but malleable.

There is not another you, there is not another me.
So when we are dust of this earth, never again, you and I no one will ever again see.

All of the jewelry, all of the money in this world could certainly never buy me.
My love is the best kind of love, you receive it for free.

And sure, we may not speak or see one another as much as I would like.
But I understand life is very fluent, much like wheels on a Tour de France bike.

Doesn't mean that I will buy you gifts to fill that void, that missing.
Just means when I see you i'll want a lot more hugging and a lot more kissing.

Life is busy, life is very very chaotically busy.
Life is like Father Time, it never stops and it never will for you and me.

A simple phone call, a private message is all I ever need.
Simple things for a simple man, affection and love is all I greed.

Those types of things let me know that little ol' me, crossed your mind in some kind of way.
It's things just like that I never forget, things that totally make my day.

And that is certainly more than enough for me.
And....
and I hope it is enough for you -- from me, for eternity.

Why do I hope this to be?
Because my love is and always will be, .....free!

I have read many a word from a favorite of mine, Edgar Allan Poe.

Inspiration overwhelms me and his words I often keep in tow.

Macabre, a man that made his own paths, plodded through the quagmire.
A man that was a little off, outnumbered  and unafraid are traits that I admire.

Dark?
Sure, if you are as deep as a thimble full of h2o.

Dark?
I laugh....only as dark where the shadows of cowards grow.

Don't be afraid of those that dare to be different and walk alone.
Don't be afraid of their echoing, stand alone tone.

Poe and those like him are not shadows that cowards like you need to fear!

Poe and those like him are the only ones on this planet that live to keep things real.