Grandma, I love you.
Where have you gone?
Grandma I miss you.
Why did you leave?
There is comfort you provide
when all seems lost and gone.
There is warmth you provided
when your presence never dare dwindled.
Grandma, I need you.
Who are you with now?
Grandma, I welcome you.
When will you come home?
Every hour is a pinging pain my heart
begs as if in want of your chief loss.
Remembering moments of you
a radiant smile appears on my face.
Grandma, I hate not knowing.
What are you doing?
Grandma, I love you.
How are you doing?
Comfort and warmth is not enough.
Pinging pains grow more sorrowful.
Sorrow turns to joy
When we see each other again.
Forgotten Wonders of Time
Memories exist in motionless places and time.
Current thoughts escape on a cloud,
fluffy and puffy and swirling and pink in their prime.
Nature’s too rich and oh so loud,
for one such as you to ignore.
Rewarding you thus makes me proud.
Forgotten wonders, then and now lost eternally,
neither sun nor moon awaken,
bonds of so so long ago. Eclipsing, faithfully,
all evil tortures forever.
Life eternal and youth divine, make us carefully,
carefully, darefully, hasten.
Sitting, watching, lying around as age takes a hold.
Waiting for youth to reassert
what has been lost to both you and I to extreme cold.
We ignore all said signs of dessert.
Cake, pie, candy, and molasses.
Sinful sloth, absent to assert.
A wakeup call is a sharp slap to lazy faces.
Why have I been holding back all?
When did you, my companion, stop taking all my cases?
We were strong, courageous, and proud.
Fools we were to let ourselves fall.
We get up. Tie our shoe laces.
At Thirteen and forty-two you humbly order me,
Never not knowing I listen.
The day has come and been gone. I fall and scrap my knee.
Hard at work we both do glisten.
How do we continue this new, everlasting road?
What hardships are there soon to be?
Memories of yesterday. Forgotten time and space.
A willingness that is divine.
A depressed moodiness turned into a cheerful face.
At long last, now we can go on.
Now we are great. We are wonderful and we are fine.
Do you feel that way? Like an ace?
This is now the end. Finished. And yet is not finished.
There is no relief in mere sight
for the continuing journey life has now anguished.
Reason and rhyme give form in night
Memories exist everywhere and yet still nowhere.
The sun rises; darkness perished.