Sunset

 

I read a blog from a friend who cares
one I have known for many years
in it she talks of her life
and the twists and turns and many strife’s
of failing health and the fight back
to bring herself on the right track
to where she can enjoy what is left
knowing she has given her best.

Like me she finds solace in her mind
the written word and thoughts from within
as she talks about the stress and strain
of how the body is not so strong
but puts up a fight with the will to live
and the spirit fights on brave and longs
to send the word both far and near
to all of those that she holds so dear.

Two different kinds of people are we
as I write about my stupidity
and forgetfulness always an excuse
and if under the weather I feel
no others need to know that fact
so instead talk about the beautiful day
with the birds and animals all out to play
and lots of pictures to light the way.

She has her readers as I have mine
both are probably of a different kind
as we both work and scribble away
trying to send a message each day
of the things we believe and about what we write
both trying to stir up some strife
as the written word we both send forth
our choice of words from a different source.

What do we have in common you say
as we do our writing in a different way
she is the artist, the singer, the muse
and writes about dreams and sweetness and life
while I am straightforward and more down to earth
and write about nature and things I can see
no make-belief or dreams of pie in the sky
no romance or endings happy or sad
just words as I see them no love left in me.

When we are gone to that other place
what will our friends on our tombstones write
that we both believed in the written word
hers so sweet and gentle and kind
writing with care to those left behind
while he likely more remembered will be
for reporting more than artistry
as it takes skill to pen the words into rhymes
and requires a much more active mind
to write the words and still be kind.