Age, of course, is not about being old
or young.
It is about time measured.
My dad is eighty years old.
Old compared to what,
the universe,
God?
He does not think of himself as old
in the scheme of all things, but young.
Of course, in terms of human years
he would tell you he is old.
He is young at heart – trust me.

Memories of days gone by,
Fill me with warmth and a sigh.
A time when life was serene,
Before the world turned so mean.

Days we'd laugh and play and cry
Thoughts that never said goodbye
Our hearts were so young and free
Our friendships so filled with glee

We'd share stories of days past,
Creating thoughts that would last.
The joys of days were so pure,
The innocence to be sure.

You, the fire, immersed in burning it all
with the heat of a blue-white flame
aimed at my good intentions.

There was no comfort there.
Where love was sought
I found wolves at the door.

When life rolls into the sheltered arms of grace,
Blazing, burning, ever glowing, a pinnacle of pulchre,
Magical crystals dangling on the open space,
Immortal fortitude, immune, no mediocre
I hope to liven the moment, rendering serenades

A serenade, birthed from the soulful tribe of purity,
Uplifting melodies, reverberating love in its finest nature,
Alluring tunes, brimming affection vis into sanity
A symphony sunken in harmononius aura, heavenly stature
A musical whisper of admirations, brewing originality

The temperature had risen, there was tension in the air,
The words he spoke in anger still echoed everywhere...
She locked the door and went to bed but didn’t sleep a wink,
“What the hell is wrong with me” was all that she could think...

He used to call her ‘beautiful’, he made her feel his love,
She thought he was a gift to her sent down from up above...
Now the tears are streaming down her face, her eye is swollen shut,
Her arm is bruised and sore and her bottom lip is cut...

Full moon glittering through an open window pane
Night's breath wafting through whisps of veiled fabric
Candles lit upon ingress, blown upon egress
Deep in slumber, I ebbed on the edge of consciousness

His hands were like fire
Burning the symbol of death into my skin
Yet so cold my senses shivered from within
I tried to cry out but was silenced with visions of a pyre

Hands down the most dramatic change ever needed to make the most profound impact awoke from helping beget the first offspring. An internal paradigm shift reshuffled priorities such that the helpless newborn necessitated immediate attention.
Whatever task held my attention at a given time, the cry of said progeny triggered and quickly trained an obligation to become a first responder of sorts.
Yes, I readily admit that at first blush selflessness grudgingly accepted, but quickly an avid enthusiasm became manifest.

Her jeans were as worn and faded,
As her once vibrant smile...
The years had been less than forgiving,
She had lived her life beneath a neon sign...

I could see the fiery passion,
Still hidden in those eyes...those eyes...
Her hand slipped easily into mine,
She spoke with a gentle calmness...

Ten years had flashed by in a single moment,
We were back to a simpler time...
When cares were few and dreams were plenty,
How long could we hold on to it, an hour...maybe two...

She's got long, beautiful straight blonde hair
Her big blue eyes just keep pulling you there
She's got a body born within your dreams
She's the definition of beauty, as it seems

My hair is wavy, auburn locks blowing in the wind
My eyes are a green that's far from a heaven send
My body is an hourglass, but I hate the way I look
I'm far from the model, the reason your world shook

Here I stand
Where all great things collide
Upon the daylight’s bittersweet waning
The moon is now full for the second time this month
It is blue and massive and floats low in the horizon
This is the last full moon of summer
whose days now scatter to the shifting winds
like wildflower seeds who lie dormant
Waiting ever patiently
for their inevitable rebirth