Author Information
Wreck and Ruin
Folder:
Wandering
alone at night, in deepest dark
no track nor light to guide my steps
cold wind rustles through thick branches
setting moonlet lures me onward
how did I get so far from home
why did I turn my back on you
I thought you did me wrong my love
But I should know all flesh is weak
I know there is no turning back
I’ve hurt you bad beyond redemption
I’ve only myself to blame for my plight
driven to ruin by foolish pride
Your an amazing writer i
Your an amazing writer i love this poem its so deep and emotional which is wat makes agreat poem keep writing i wiuld love to read mire
Love and hate go hand in hand for eternity
Holla!
It's been years since I've written as well...and that's all right. This writing stuff is simply therapy for me...
I am doing well, living in a small rural community in Illinois. I have a position as a lead psychotherapist in a local hospital working with seniors...so far it's a perfect job for me. My husband works for the U.S. Air Force and has been living and working temporarily in the state of Georgia. He may be home soon though.
We have a granddaughter named Jaycie (hate the name and the spelling, but what can you do?). She is a beautiful little girl and we welcome her to our family.
I have written a short story, or piece that I may post when I find the time, in the mean time I'm just hanging out with my daughter, our dogs & cats, and working...Life is good...Looking back, I feel pretty good about my life & life choices, but wonder where it all went so fast...? !
Please keep in touch...
Geneva
Ken, my friend, it's been
Ken, my friend, it's been years since I've read you...and it sounds like you've been through some rough stuff...but I'm so glad to read you again...:)
Geneva
geneva
Wow Geneva,
I'm so stoked that you visited me. I confess I have not written poetry for several years, and only visited Post Poems as I scrolled my bookmarks.
How about you? Got any new stuff? I will check you out. Salty stuff, I'll bet.
I know you got married a while back, and I remember the lovely photo you sent me. I have become a grandfather since we last talked. Her name is Lexie and here is her picture:
Sorry, you'll have to cut and paste.
Now that I know you're out there, I'll write some more. I'm pretty rusty, tho.
All the best,
Ken
My Secret River
Good Poets
never get rusty - they always keep the letters well oiled and the mind lubed up. A bit of remorse, but the artisitic ability oozes from this poem. Encore. ~slc~ (aka allets)
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