Decisions are difficult to make
But I'll tell you one advice to take:
Use the brain to be smart;
To be right, use the heart

Brief moments of painful heartaches occur to
remind us how wonderful life is the rest of the time.

I want to run away.
Not very far,
maybe just down the street.
To the home of books upon dusty shelves and checkout cards,
I could get away from reality and just read.
Read about fairylands and mythical wastelands
where the heroes end up winning and all the monsters die.
There's no fear,
no hatred.
Just happiness
and I'll squint at the paper pages,
trying to read the small print
as the sunlight drips over it like a fresh oil painting on a hot day.
The sky will shine like a kaleidoscope array
of precious pinks and bright blues.
I'll lean against an old tree
and my back with probably ache several  days later,
but the solitude is worth the pain.

I want to run away,
but my wings won't seem to fly.

Before he retired –
aged sixty-two –
life was a meaningful
calling for her.

Not over-radical,
more gentle and
secular – but post-
suffrage.

Her children had
left the nest, and
the story of Esther
came to mind.

She writes poetry
and helps others
less fortunate than
she is.

He puts food on the
table, and she gives
meaning to the
marital vows.

She never wanted
to emulate Steinem
or Millett – maybe
Eleanor Roosevelt.

She neither wears
a bra nor burns one
– competition only a
four-syllable word.

A day in her life is
one hand on the soup
kettle, the other on
a protest sign.

One week a month
she volunteers
at a church shelter
for the homeless.

One day a week
she picks up the
mail for a neighbor
who is bed-ridden.

When night time
comes and she lies
in bed, he massages
her feet in silence.

She hasn’t retired –
never will – not in the
shadows of the night
nor morning’s shine.

© Lewis Bosworth, 9/16

and then
one day
my sky
really did fall
and life carried on
without
me
but eventually
i was helped up
slowly
dusted myself off
and i even learned
to smile
again

They say not everyone can dream
I say we all are dreamers
Why else would we struggle
To find happiness in the sadness
To give a meaning to the meaningless
To find something that lasts in the ephemeral
It’s because we are dreamers
that we haven’t given up yet
That’s why we are still alive
Still breathing
We tend to the fire
That is gonna die down anyway
We assure ourselves that we are happy
Well, there’s a little beauty in that

Though I wish it was not
the case
this human race
does not want
an honest human being.

Instead, they want shiny
expensive
status symbols
but all I have to offer
is love and wisdom.

Mountain tulip petals
Falling , Falling , Falling now
Like a waterfall song