We both carry the scars,
the ones from our darkest day.
I for the life I lived,
He from the life I lived.
Dark with dispair, was I.
To carry my dispair, did he.
How I long to speak, to him,
of our scars.
He must have luved me,
as I long to luv them now.
This is a dream we share,
the scars that bind us ...
Eternally.
Difficult things, I seek to know.
Yet thus explain, I cannot.
And little understand, do I yet.
I ponder them now,
These many years
Long do to I desire,
to share these thoughts.
Then why do you not,
understand me thus?
To win an argument,
I do not, then seek.
I want to share, a truth.
Maybe the day, will come,
when better prepared to receive, you are
Or more able, to explain, I am.
Till then, shall we dance,
and be friends.
She painted,
In water colors and oil.
Whence she started, I do not know.
Late in life, I do suppose.
In life, I did not appreciate them.
Long gone, she is now.
Charlene her daughter in law
She was living with, when grandma died.
She sent them to my sister.
We have them now.
I long for her presence,
the paintings will do..
for Now.
Maybe my children will have my poetry,
when gone, I am, too.
Will they long for me, as I do, for her ...
Now
