WILD FLOWERS

May 19, 2002

Darling, I know the flowers where you now live
Have more scent and beauty than earth bound flowers give,
But still I think you’d like to share with me
The beauty I am privileged to see.

Remember purple flowers you wanted me to dig,
Growing in the ditch beside an old oil rig?
How we dug them up with care and brought them over here,
Never dreaming they would bloom year after year?

Last year we reset some around the water pump;
This year they are glorious, a sweet smelling clump;
With tall green stems, lacey leaves and purple flowers
That smell like Lilacs as they drink May showers.

Just another of the many things you left here behind
To remind me of you and soothe my troubled mind,
Things that help me often to while away the time,
And sometimes inspire me to write another rhyme.

I wish I could cut some and pass them up to you;
Perhaps more than some; maybe quite a few;
But since you are living where your city lies “Foursquare”
My bouquet will have to wait until I get there’

I feel that you are looking past my bowed down shoulder,
Thinking how to roll away this huge old boulder,
That seals your grave and cuts you off from me,
Waiting now to hear me shout, “Behold, I see!”

WORDS OF THE SPIRIT

May 17, 2002

Three times she visited night before last;
Three times as pleasant as dreams of the past.
My head on her lap, her eyes soft and gentle;
Not a word did she speak; our visit was mental.

I needed no words; her smile was sufficient;
Nor did she; she now is omniscient;
Nor is this so new, for all through our life
She discerned my thinking as a dutiful wife.

Just being together was all that we needed;
Our spirits commingled and somehow we heeded
What only our spirits were able to say,
Nor are we deprived of that blessing today.

Oh yes, I long for the touch of her hand,
Her every need to be my command,
A kiss every morning and often all day;
Life was so pleasant living that way.

But now that her body lies silent and still,
I know I must know that God's perfect will
Is to send her Spirit which I love so much,
Through which Oj and Dorothy still keep in touch.