From shelter, warm,
to darkness, cold,
my love for you,
will never get old.

Weather storms,
spawns a heavy rain.
Must I tell you?,
Must I explain.

The harsh light,
pours from skylights above.
Harsh on these old eyes,
still searching for a lost love.

We wonder about the unknown.
It raises many questions.

Long grow the shadow,
beyond the far, away hill,
where you will find plants,
like the golden Daffodill.

A plant grown commercially,
for many a year,
but in the wilderness,
will suddenly appear.

Resulting from a Pioneer,
family who built a home,
where the wildlife was plenty,
and the buffalo would roam.

How hard it must have
been to start with nothing
and rebuild your home
comfort, safety again.

There are those we know who
made the greatest sacrifice.
My short acknowledgement.

Once, in the beginning,
at the start of life,
an imagined beginning.

There lies a creature,
within my soul, at rest
There, its lain, since I was,
born out of wedlock, not the best.

I know it's true,
for I've been told,
You will soon be free.
Out in the cold.

"What are you doing?",
said a voice, sounding like Doom,
as it rang out from,
the back of the room.

I'm speaking to a friend,
if you'd be so kind, to not
butt into my conversation,
for it is his ear that I've got.

Just go away,
leave me alone,
it's my new place,
which I call home.

I sit in wonder,
now alone,
with no one close,
who I could phone.

Not talking about
my family,
but about my
missing thee.

Thee who was,
my lovely wife,
no longer here but
now gone, from life.

I talked with her,
about daily events,
we had our positions,
weren't on the fence.

This luxury is
no longer here,
so I sit alone,
she's not near.

I know this sounds,
like a "Woe is Me,"
but in fact,
it's my reality.

A long time ago,
in a faraway place,
I envisioned, the beauty,
of seeing your face.

Your brown eyes,
so, warming to see.
The voice of an Angel,
who I saw, in thee.

Love, the eternal feeling of
the love of another. A deep,
caring love, which you never,
experience again. Cherish it now.

No, no,
I must explain,
the words,
Mark Twain.

When the measured,
depth of water,
is six foot,
or better,

we are talking about,
below the keel.
It's a measurement,
which is real.