End of Life Crisis…


End of life crisis just what is that
not what you would expect it to be
this one comes when someone is old
and still has dreams the truth be told.

We are born, we live and then we die
is the normal way of things
but in between are a lot of years
each a reflection of our fears.

When we are very, very young
our life is spent on an upward swing
as we wend our way through life
learning a part of everything.

All of a sudden we are middle aged
with responsibilities galore
kids to raise a mortgage to pay
and worst of all our hair turns grey.

Then the kids are gone and just the two
living in a house that’s much too big
shall we move into a smaller house
with all of this room what do we do.

Now we are old and no longer play
and go for long walks every day
just to keep the muscles free
in the hope to extend eternity.

Alas it is a losing game
as things can never stay the same
time marches on and there is no wait
to stand outside those Pearly Gates.

All of a sudden there comes the end
along with a multitude of friends
as we reach the age when we all die
and everyone knows the reason why.

Time Marches On…

Written 11/16/2017

Thoughts


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It’s been awhile since I last wrote
or to my many readers spoke
of things that happen day to day
as I travel on my way
life is no longer the same
no worldly goods do I seek to claim
content to live with what I have got
on my little half acre lot
my little piece of American pie
with dreams that drift up to the sky
although too old for them to succeed
my mind still active tries to heed
the dreams that still my heart exclaims
as the years run out on all of my claims
to lead s different sort of life
maybe even include a wife
more acres of land to call my own
more years to enjoy what I have sown
ideas that need a more youthful life
not an old body filled with strife
of many years in this world
struggling to help it all unfurl
and what is the purpose at the end
what words of wisdom can I send
to those that I will leave behind
who buys my house what will they find
the ponds the garden the sheds all there
waiting for their tender care
to carry on where I left off
or to start anew at the thinking trough
and fill in the ponds and landscape anew
because they want a different view
with grass and flowers and an open space
each to their own there’s to replace
I do not really even care
what happens when I am no longer there
as my time on this earth will have been run
and for the most it has been fun
with ups and downs as we go through life
hoping that there’s not too much strife
and in the end the question remains
as dead is dead to bury or cremate
I think that when my time does come
a wooden box will be my home
returned back to the cold cold ground
with Mother Nature my love unbounds.

Written 10/20/2017

Lost Days


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I woke up this morning and have lost a day
somewhere I missed it along the way
I was sure that it was Saturday
with all of the games being played
instead it turned out to be Friday
with nothing new to view today
I wonder where those days go
the ones that get lost along the way
will I ever get them back again
one more day to live and play
or are they lost forever with no say.

At my age I can’t afford to lose
just one day out of my busy life
so few remain and every one
needs to count even with strife
I would rather have another day
to enjoy and have fun as I play
doing things I like to do
writing poetry and stories in my blog
hiking and Nature, tending the ponds
and being outdoors where I truly belong.

Even as I write this poem
the sun has hidden behind the clouds
and the day is growing dark
alas rain will leave its mark
no hiking to day, no outdoor play
instead I must find things to do
Indoors, and what I haven’t a clue
I could fuss with some legal stuff
that needs to be done and I keep putting off
but somehow no interest in it have I
even as a view grey skies.

If I hadn’t lost a day
and it really was a Saturday
then there would be plenty to view
with new games being played
with athletic young men kicking a ball
artists of their own beck and call
each one better than the next
young titans in battle but not vexed
as they fight for the ball and treat each other the same
as sportsmanship is the name of the game.

Now that I haven’t lost a day
instead have gained one along the way
what shall I do to fill the time
now that the skies are cloudy and grey
I could take a nap and the dogs would be pleased
to snuggle together in the middle of the day
but that seems like a precious waste
of valuable time in short supply
instead I think I will write some more
of things more interesting than keeping score.

Time


dsc_4115I think back about my life
that spans four score years and one
remembering days of long ago
when things were different and oh so slow.

Time is not measured by a clock
in hours and minutes as we know
that time in life is a different time
sometimes fast and sometimes slow.

When I was young all those years ago
time was passing ever so slow
and I could pack much in a day
and life just seemed an endless play.

Now that my race is almost run
even though life is still much fun
days that used to be so long
pass by so fast just like a song.

When I get up to start the day
not knowing what I will do to play
maybe a hike or write a blog
or out in the yard to work like a dog.

Whatever it is I will have fun
knowing my race is almost run
no more worries and no more cares
just live the life and see what fairs.

Of one thing I can be sure
life is not a revolving door
I only get one chance to shine
to make the most of my allotted time.

When my time is up I will be sad
there is so much living left to add
to the years spent on this earth
when each day brings a miracle of birth.

And Nature brings forth and shines
new growth new life each welcoming times
making a brand new cheerful day
for those that remain behind to play.

Life is an ever changing thing
in this magnificent universe
to get share whatever the strife
is worth the time we span our life.

 

Writing Mood, Poetry or Prose.


Wonders of the mind

Wonders of the mind

After weeks of working on other things
videos and such with a different theme
I finally finished that piece of work
and can return to my roots and to my art.
Photographs and images are wonderful things
to capture the moment and make time stand still
it is a different view that the artist finds
looking through the lens the picture to define.

When I look at things through a writers eyes
my mind is the camera the picture to align
the words come to me and as fast as I can
I write them down before they decline.
sometimes they come to me in verse
and as a poem they appear on the page
whether they have meaning and a story tell
I don’t know if I’m doing it well.

How successful will be this poem of mine
do the words actually rhyme
is there a story to go with this verse
or is it just a jumbled up mess.
I guess regardless how others see
whether they hear the words I write
I write for myself and not for them
these words, these poems are mine to lend.

It seems poetry is the nicest way
for me to write the words I see
and although short pieces of prose I do
there is something inside of me
that wants to put everything in verse
and I do not know which is worse
bad poetry not written at all well
or bad prose with no story to tell.

I guess dear reader you must decide
for you are ones that I hope reads this stuff
regardless of how you may find
I will continue to write as it comes to my mind.

“Thanks for reading my blog”