Though we have explored
all there is to travel
I still turn to you in awe
Those wondrous eyes
still cause my blood to race
On cruel and foggy days
all jagged nerves
and withered spirit
you lose your gravity
drifting again
on days that have no anchor

And if I must, I’ll do it tenderly
hold you through the waves
of heaving sobs
clutch your trembling hand
and we’ll fathom
the house ...

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Its amazing how quickly time passes

I only heard about him the other day

I got a call from my cousin Katherine

It was her told me he had passed away

A completely new outfit is essential

At my age you have to put on a show

Time for a manicure, see to my hair

Show them I never lost that old mojo

They'll be wondering will I turn up

It will be fun to keep them gues...

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Yes this is very true for my husband he is the lighthouse in my storm that we whether together or try to overcome the things that has been placed in my life and that has affected our lives as husband and wife and he is my comfort when I need comforting and he is my light to guide me on my darkest shores that kept me away so far bay and as his love and wisdom and caring and support always guides me...

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In the beginning he would wake at every peculiar sound that came from the babies crib 

In the beginning he would bring me a beverage as I fed his son whilst the moon was dimly lit 

In the beginning he would rush home from work eager to see the family he created 

In the beginning we were the people whom he could be himself and escape with 

In the beginning we were enough 

He wou...

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Look over there,

Sat in that comfy reclining chair,

Is a man so wise and strong,

With so much knowledge which was seldom wrong.

The way his eyes would sparkle when he laughed,

And his cheesy smile on all his photographs.

His daytime nap making a little snore,

Is he really asleep? I think as I open the door.

He was such a good old joker,

Yet kept a face as straight a...

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I am looking for a husband and a friend.
If they come together I’ll withstand. 

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Noticed

I lived my life, most often, like a ghost,

ethereal, drifting from room to room,

a chill chasing me from pillar to post.

Rippling across the senses of those whom,

in solitude, sought meaning in their life

before they passed beyond it to the tomb.

I was not noticed by them, or my wife

who gladly let me rest in silent shade

whilst stab...

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