The little man stood upon a hill, for it was all he could climb,
He lived upon the low land and his world was built on rhyme
All his words found a way to touch each other and cry
When tears were not the daily plan then words became so wry.
He stood upon his hill, with his small and battered hands,
wishing for the ocean view and the feel of burning sands.
The sun was just above him and stars were there at night,
but all the world around him seemed to block his sight.
Sometimes magic would arrive and touch his wounded soul,
but there was no constant answer, he was never to be whole.
Why stand upon the hill they say, there is no answer there
He would not give an answer, he knew they didn’t care.
Days go by as does the clock and all the blowing dust,
the world still changes colour, it turns to bitter rust.
The little man on the hill watches it all in shame,
He sees that rhymes won’t cure the world, life is just a game.

Often times at my dreadful old age I wonder at my value
My worth is something that may at this stage still be due
What might I do to fix this world or even this tiny home
Would anyone even notice if my soul decided to roam
Our value is determined but what we can contribute
Not by the anguish or pain that we may distribute
I have not the courage to simply fly to that place
Where all the worthless will sleep and take up space
So I find myself inflicting nuisance on those I love
Where I have never fit like a warm winter glove
Perhaps the latest sneak attack on my very being
Will allow me the simple privilege of finally seeing
Maybe at last end my brutal waste of time and air
I wonder then will anyone with a mind really care
Like millions of others in my sad world of fear and doubt
I must wait and see what wondering about value is really all about

WHC 2024

Time tends to twist and bend the gentlest of thoughts
it seems we want more of it even during the painful times.
Time and light are the currency of life, if we have both
we can spend hours watching the long road ahead of us.
Do not take either for granted, do not squander this treasure.
It may be fine to share or even teach the skill to others
as long as you recognize what you have and how long it will last.
This road we walk is a different length for each of us
be aware of how far you are from the bridge of finality.
Grasp each moment no matter the pain or pleasure involved
and do all within your power to preserve each second of that event.
Spread your ideas and plans to those you love and care for
hope that they follow the plan as you have and perhaps
reach that bridge at the same moment sharing a smile and love.

Each time it gets harder to dig up words with real meaning
I feel like an actor walking in to his first screening.
Its not important to anyone but me what I stumble to write
It is sad in this bitter world that finding words is such a fight
I want the trees to be greener, the flowers to last longer
I want the sky to stay blue and my mind to stay stronger
I want illness to just simply leave town for ever more
Just leave my life and on the way out don’t slam the door
I want to give more to the ones that I love so much
I want them closer to me daily so I feel their touch
It seems I have an awful lot of wants within my soul
When I find them all I will finally feel somewhat whole.

WHC….2024

Please keep the noise down I’m trying to grow old
It’s hard and it’s painful and wickedly cold.
I need more flowers, more brilliant green trees
More people around who stop and say please.
Let’s have some music and don’t let it stop
Crank up the volume, don’t dare let it drop.
Each day a new wrinkle with a memory to match
I try to recall the story and reach for the catch
So often I miss it’s just too far away
Yet memories we grab, have so much to say
Please help me remember and bring back the day
When words were my friend, with something to say.
Please don’t be angry if I can’t speak your name
I see your eyes and the soul is the same.
Please forgive me for not being with you
I’m not far way and there’s a lot you can do.

As years and days pass by and leave small shadows
I spend more and more time buried in angry fear
At an advanced age I struggle running through meadows
I also find that daily I fight to hold back the odd tear
Am I sad am I afraid or do I have a hidden foe
If I continue to fight on daily can I win this fight
Is there ever a victor in a war without any woe
As an old an battled man in ill repair
I try to plan my battles very carefully and few
But then my old confusion proposes a dare

Old eyes stare at faded walls,
A glance at a landline maybe for calls
Yesterday crosses the line of sight
But disappears in a heartbeat like a fright
Its been so long and it burns in red
Starting now to wonder about all the dead.
A little music and a little beer for some
Anything that makes an old soul numb
Plants grow while they stare at the sun
Some of us worry that life is now done
Darkness brings no sudden reprieve
But sometimes sad memories will leave
Morning always brings more of the same
We look around and wonder who’s to blame
Kids are gone and I am in the dark
Sometimes a call, a token, cold and stark
They take another soul away, I listen
I close my ancient eyes as they start to glisten.
Maybe it’s not an ending but a start
To teach all the young ones to have a heart.
Lonely is in the rear view for all of us
When we are carried out we won’t make a fuss.