Kevin Michael Bloor

as good as it gets

I\'ve lost my youth, but kept my health,
got lovely wife; I’d call that wealth!
My mind\'s still sharp, rarely forgets;
this is as good-good as it gets.

I\'m carefree still, just like a child,
bewitched by beauty and beguiled.
My sorrow sank with sun that sets;
this is as good – good as it gets.

I’ve lived to see the love I lost
(same one my mother called star-cross’d)
return, against all odds and bets;
this is as good-good as it gets

I\'ve found the faith I lost with youth,
that plain and simple gospel truth.
Same faith that saves from fears and frets;
this is as good-good as it gets

I’m home at last, to roam no more,
like Ulysses from Trojan War.
I live the dream; I’ve no regrets;
this is as good – good as it gets.

I’ve seen my foes curl up and die;
they\'re buried ‘neath a darkling sky.
They’ve turned to dust, like all their threats;
this is as good – good as it gets.

I pen my lines in metered verse
(to prose though, I am not averse)
prefer though beautiful Vignettes;
this is as good – good as it gets

I rise and one more bone may ache.
I sleep in fits and starts and wake,
but tears of joy my pillow wets;
this is as good – good as it gets.

I’ll pass away; my time will come,
at sounding of my death knell’s drum.
I’ve kept the faith; I’ve paid my debts;
this is as good – good as it gets.

I’ll fade from my love’s memory.
Perhaps my paltry poetry
will conjure me when she forgets;
this is as good – good as it gets.