Archive for the ‘song’ Tag

~~ September’s Song ~~   3 comments




There’s a coolness 

In the breeze

As leaves shower

From the trees.

Days grow short and

Nights grow long

As Autumn sings 

September’s Song.




Posted September 4, 2017 by PapaBear in Experiences, Memories, Personal, Poetry

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~~ Broken ~~   2 comments




Where did it all go wrong

We lost the words and forgot the song

How could we be so sadly mistaken

About all the rules we’d been breakin’

Never thinking about the day

When we’d have to face and pay

The price for all the mistakes we made

For what we did, and what we said

Foolishly we sit and cry

For all the wonderful past gone by

We were so proud of our progress

Never to realize that we’d regressed

Now there’s little else to do

But face the day and start anew


Just trying to understand how all of the governmental systems of this great country

have become so irreparably broken.


G’nite Everybody !!!

Posted November 9, 2016 by PapaBear in Experiences, History, Poetry

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The day has been too busy

And the hours much too long.

It’s time to rest these weary bones

And find me a soft, happy song.



Sweet Dreams Everybody !




Posted September 26, 2016 by PapaBear in Personal, Poetry, Uncategorized

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A Place Called Yesterday   8 comments



There is a place called yesterday

I passed it down the road

A place the heart can stop and play

And loose it’s heavy load


Memories live in this old place

And most find respite there

A friend, a sweet familiar face

Give sweetness to the air.


Best not linger there too long

What’s there is in the past

But like notes of an old favorite song

The soft melodies still last.






(Something I wrote a couple of years ago and felt it deserved another post)

Posted November 1, 2015 by PapaBear in Experiences, Personal, Poetry

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~~ Dance Party ~~   1 comment



Sometimes like a silky slow waltz with its precise rhythm and time

Sometimes an exotic jazz tune in it’s runs, and riffs, and no rhyme

An erotic salsa with a staccato beat

Or a sweet sexy rumba that shuffles our feet


Some move us rapidly, some move us slow

We move to their rhythm and somehow we know

That with all the variety of these dance steps above

Its a romantic two-step that oft leads us to love.

The journey seems endless as we travel along

Moving our step to the beat of its song






Yeah, I’m in a kind of funky mood tonight.  Been a long day and I’m a bit tired but not too tired to share a thought or two with y’all.  It’s my feeling that life’s like a big dance party and everyone just has to find their own rhythm and groove so that things will make some sense and seem worthwhile to us.  And, when it’s all over and the band’s packing up for the night, we just have to know that life will still be there tomorrow night, just a new crowd, dancing to a new band.


Keep on dancin’………

 Good Night Everybody !



Roses   5 comments


The living roses are now gone
both of them.
The world sings a more sad song
without them.
No more blossoms come
to cheer and light the day.
No sweet scent to guide the way
at night.
In their place two angels sing
Peace to those who loved them bring.
He sat in the garden where, so long ago, she brought him to tell of how she and her mother had tended this place and how beautiful it had been. There were tears of remembrance as she recounted how they had, each springtime, cleared, planted and nurtured the flowers…, and the love they shared for each other…, and how much she missed the warmth of her mother’s tender and sheltering care.  He looked around him at the weeds and overgrowth, and after hearing her, he began to understand how much love had been alive in this place, resolved that it would once again be a tribute to the two women who had shared so much here.

She would be away for a couple of days now, plenty of time for all to be accomplished. He brought out the tools and implements he needed from the shed and began by cutting everything to the ground. All would need to be replaced, even the roses whose canes had died. He had finished by noon and had gone to the nursery to look for flowers. He selected everblooming roses, red ones with large, full blossoms, then a collage of annual and perennial color to complete the vision she had described. By early afternoon the next day it was finished and he was satisfied. He scrubbed and polished the marble bench that was at the end of the walkway in the middle of the plantings, turned and walked back to the house to wait for her return.

Around five o’clock he heard her car in the driveway but was puzzled when she didn’t come into the house. Looking out the front window, he saw her sitting on the bench among the flowers. After a while she came into the house and took him by the hand and led him back out to the garden. She looked up into his eyes and said, “Love is growing here once again…”


The garden, the roses, both of them, the marble bench are all gone now, but not the love that lived there. That is forever.


~~~The Conversation~~~   2 comments




It’s a quiet winter evening.  He added a couple of logs to the sputtering embers in the fireplace and returned to the sofa.  He closes his eyes and listens…..
Her:  The shadows of a song play softly in my heart, and in the sunset that is in my soul.  It sings in the bright golden dreams and in my mind  gently whispers you name.
Him: What are your dreams of gold…, and what is the song that sings in your heart?  Please tell me.
Her:  The dream is our love, lasting forever and ever.  The song is the untiring melody of that love, playing over and over and over.  The melody is unending and beautiful, sounding fresh, and wonderfully new each time I hear it.
Him:  Sweet darlin’ girl, my heart rises to touch your soul, reaching to find and hold that dream that is ours and know the gentle peace of your love…
The fire dies and the house grows cold.  He sits alone now, thinking of all of the joy, the happiness, and the dreams of love they shared.  He talks to himself…, to no one in the house. Time was too short my love…, a hundred years, a thousand, would have been too short.  The gold has turned to silver, turned to dust”.  He closes his eyes, head settles on his chest, and he dreams.


Her: I’m here with you, sweetness, as I promised I would always be, in your heart and in your soul.
Him:  I feel your touch in the night when I sleep.  I hear your song of love each morning when I wake.  It is your light that keeps me moving forward to finish living the plans that we made.
Her:  Darling, take my hand.  It’s time to come home.  This dream is ended and it’s time to continue our journey.
He rose from the tired body that was his and took her into his arms.  They kissed, then turned and drifted into the ethereal air.
Friends found it the next day, the worn, tired body of an old man, smiling…..