I have my music,
Those wondrous sounds.
It could be classical,
The sounds of Mozart, Brahms or Richter.
It could be jazz,
From Satchmo, Acker or Chet.
It could be rock,
From the Moodies, Floyd or Unsub.
It could be folk or blues or Country.
They are all with me,
And always with me,
But my lover is not there.
I have my art,
The art that calls to me
Into the world of the artist.
It could be classical,
Da Vinci, Caravaggio or Michelangelo.
It could be the Pre-Raphaelites,
Hunt, Millais or Rosetti.
It could be modern art,
Rothko, Klimt or Edwards.
I am in awe of their works,
The feelings they bring to me,
And are always with me,
But my lover is not there.
My love for words
Flow onto the page,
They are always with me,
But my life has changed,
And is changing
As the love of my life
Falls deeper and deeper
Into her own world,
Her own world of dementia.
Deeper and deeper she falls
To that time now
Where she has almost disappeared.
Have so many things in my life,
But my lover is not there.