Memories

Love a dozen-hundred-thousand.

Rain bows, pitter shatter.

Boy's toys, toy boys.

A circle a cycle.

Mistake, recycle.

Merry go round and round.

Your Eyes

Your eyes tell a story, if only I could read,
Of summer fun and winter nights, of love and miseries.
Your eyes grow a garden, if only I could go,
With winding paths and waterfalls, with rose and white daisies.
Your eyes have a map, if only I had a compass,
Through treasure troves and ancient ruins, through rivers and great seas.
Your eyes paint a picture, if only I could see,
The swirls of paint and brush strokes, the colors and techniques.
Your eyes consume my heart, you only have to try,
To read to me and carry me, to guide and show me please.

Dear Grandma

Each year goes by quicker than the last, leaving sweet memories of past.
A loves first kiss, the oceans scent, baby smiles, flowers and money spent.
Families grow, little ones sprout, off to see what the world's about.
Friends multiply both near and far, teaching us about who we are.
Our hair will turn, our feet will swell, but they're all signs of a life lived well.
Our family is close, our friends are dear, and laughter is still a great cure.
When hours pass to end our day, we bow our heads and start to pray.
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done...then thank god for life, love and sun.