I am certainly loved
by four men younger
than me three friends
and one lover and
one my own age
Love comes in many
forms in any age
Most of us can
give love but few
can or will accept
Stinginess moves both ways
I suggest that you
accept as freely as
you give it’s lovely
Category: Muenster
HappyBirthdayRick❤️
And on this day
One day before me
There you were born
Being first you paved
The way for me
And as best friends
And like a frame
You surrounded my craziness
With home and friendship
Giving me the chance
To whimper and bark
Somewhere in the middle
Of the Midwest somewhere
Tackle boxes are made
You set out first
Knowing I would follow
Tomorrow souls do dream
Before they are born
And we did dream
Of being friends forever
Happiest of birthdays Rick
GiveMeWrinkles
I wonder why
Two different pairs
Of eyes either
Adore or avoid
I have been
Found to be
Handsome by most
But here in
Denver I’m overlooked
And overpicked over
And over again
What they fail
To understand is
With my wrinkles
Also comes a
Roadmap of adventure
Of advice and
Admiration not for
Me but for
All those others
Whom I have
Take the young
With their dreams
And their futures
Give me wrinkles
For it’s wrinkles
That tells me
Something has been
Already worn has
Already served purpose
And master and
Has survived to
Tell its story
For stories are
What dreams have
Been made of
NoMoreBattlefields
I love this life
Of not knowing what
When who or why
Even the where isn’t
Exact it’s more gaseous
Usually experienced when young
But still always new
Even at my age
Through with the wars
I have abandoned my
Battlefields leaving behind the
Faceless and the known
And now as scars
Have healed but noticeable
Still I go anywhere
Where silence replaces guilt
That new place will
No longer scream victory
Or retreat or surrender
But something far less
Like oats whispering as
They shuffle in wind
Or willows that readjust
As the Autumn breeze
Catches each green finger
At last bringing comfort
I will find there
Knowing that the other
There is behind me
Well what do you
Know here we are
MorningMemories
It’s really only ever
The little simple things
Like the gurgle hiss
And spit of a
Kettle set to boil
As the first glow
Of day washes over
Last nights late snow
And chickadees bounce and
Bob skitter and slide
On the frozen birdbath
Like children wearing skates
As I spoon splash
And stir dark roast
Into a now warmed
Coffee press watching as
Grounds drop and emerge
Like we did that
One July day so
Very very long ago
In ponds out back
This is my morning
Of memories every day
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 