Tell me you have not feared

your sleep to ease a soul so marred.

Dreams lurking to remind in ways

you of spending sinful days,

widened eyes open in a haze.

If you chance reluctant time to bed,

next awareness are you dead?

The night is dark, the night is real,

demons of darkness never heal.

Temptation by day, fright by night

reeling sin of your souls damning plight,

only days to make time right.

A fearful dream molest your slumber,

next time asleep, hell may pull you under.

I only ran out for some fun.

You locked my door and made me wait a ton.

Now don’t even try to hit or you’ll get bit.

Maybe you also need to run.

Your ample body scrapes the floor.

I was prowling and howling with my crew.

Late? You babble, this cat will never report to you.

You can’t be serious with a gentle scratch

and some crunchy feline friendly treats.

You really believe that makes amends for me?

I am not that precious purrrrrfect cat

you fuzzily see as you dote on me.

You foolish human, I am a cat ‘born to be free’

and don’t be forgetting as you always do.

Or maybe you will be dealing with some poo.

Obviously you need reminding and scratching

that’s gonna need some serious patching.

I will go and play when I damn well please.

I graciously allowed you to bring me in.

You were lonely and I finally gave in.

Running free will always be my need.

We cats save you humans consistently.

Is there a human ASCPA?

You take us in like you care,

then try to change us, you must not be fully there.

My needs though are more than treats.

Get used expensive gourmet eats.

I need to run and chase at night.

Stalk night critters with all my might;

then share a bite served with a bit of fright.

I own you, you not me.

You are now my staff with my precious fleas.

Open the stinking door I need my brunch

prepare me a decent bite to crunch.

Then a lazy sunbath is my hunch.

Skip the drama of the bath.

I’ll just clean myself on our bed,

then dream micely on your head.

Running in my dreams to and fro

as my pawls dig you face, oh no!

I reached up and debilitating pain hijacked my grasp and then fell into a burning prison buried in the core of my spine. I was in serious trouble and this bone splintering event changed the course of my life. At first, doubt became my mantra, pain was my constant companion and a simple infection would wrap it up for me. My dilemma was how do I change my direction without losing focus on all those so called "important" aspects of my existence? My new path would need to bypass my old ways and accept the burden of disease. Physically I was a disaster but determined not to let illness destroy my mind. Prose and poetry became my new companion and weapon.

Doubt in my ability to write though was initially an obstacle to making my thoughts and emotions find paper. Words were like weapons that protected my mind. They could provide me the means to remain in the battle that my body wanted so much to loose. I took the first leap with my memoir 'Hope'. It touched on my life experience when this second cancer tried to take me down for round two.

Like so many others I was often tempted to use the beauty of the written word to share my feelings or just tell a story. Sometimes one has to be backed into one of life's tragic corners where written words are needed to break out. The second cancer event fired the glowing ember to write that burned within me. My frugal words would certainly not make me immortal but have given me an opportunity to live the gift of every day. Like so many other writings, excluding the great ones, my attempts will end up on a dusty shelf with the pages untouched and fading away. My true living on beyond my short visit here on mortal earth does not live in a book, trophy or award but lives in what values we instill in our children. If one written word I share can help another that consequence will be the fulfillment of my life. My words I pray then will continue to echo into following generations.

I believe writing should take the form of speaking to readers with them not having to search for some obscure inner meaning. Clarity is my goal in my prose and poetry. Hopefully my readers discover a bit of me in every stanza and paragraph penned by me.

My poem 'chords' may sum up best how "words beat across my mind " help me share my life with others.

'chords'

My bodies strength limits me,

my mind still strains to roam,

seeking far places, sometimes all alone.

Written words lift me away

with verse floating my wings,

soaring me to people, places, things.

A world uplifting, a world sometimes sad,

good and evil do exist,

ripe for metaphor to convey another twist.

Poetry can touch the world

and shakes perception free

with acuity eyes may refuse to see.

Ideas arrive lacking any form,

words beat across my mind

waiting for me to add some rhyme.

Sharing notes of experience

can be the keys of life melody,

poetry provides the chords.

Dressed up again,

Shoved to and fro,

No place for me

Just let me go.

Life has whisked

my loved ones away.

They put me here,

I am out of the way.

Others just gone.

Some just astray.

My life is gone,

I am past decay.

Cane in hand

as I wait.

Can’t hold my head up,

nor my weight.

In a hallway

ready to be placed.

A traffic jam of chairs

why the race?

A flower for me

wilts by my bed.

Peddles droop

also soon very dead.

I loved life,

I have no life.

God take me please,

from my strife.

Note: I am new to this site. Please forgive me if you were not looking for a sad poem.