The Drifter Neil Diamond

HARVEST MOON

Seeing the moon may not seem like a big deal to you.  But,  where I live now, there are so many trees, they block the view of the moon, most of the time.  But, tonight,  it rose in a space between the trees. Hello, Moon.it was a lovely sight.
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THE SOUND OF BEING ALONE

I  usually didn't agree with Neil about that. I was alone mostly.  I had my mom, dad and brothers.  but, no friends. no one to play with. 
I lived in books.  no 'shilo' even. 
we lived out in the country.  no neighbors. just a few relatives.
after I left and went to college. I made a few friends.
then I met  Dale.  we were together fifty years. he died. now, I am alone. no one.  only my home care.. .boring.
four out of seven days----alone. I can't see well. so the occupations I used to have, I can no  longer do.
long gray days. empty, empty. for some one creative, it's death.
TV and a computer. are all I have.
absolutely pathetic.  Life, meaningless. no life.  semi-disabled. can't leave the mobile  without help.  have no help.
why get old.  there is nothing to look forward to.
don't suggest anything. I've  tried   many things. not eligible  for anything.   just sit here, molder  and fade away.
am I sorry for myself?   yes.  am I depressed? yes.  there is a lot of reasons.
I live in town.
I have never felt so isolated.

I agree with Neil now.
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NOTHING NEW

I  am not blogging , because  I have nothing to say
who wants to hear, how one's life is gray.
to find  one is only existing, day to day.
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RAINY NIGHT

Deep of night
the raindrops start,
heavy  and hard
on roof and across
the fence and yard.
turning  ground into a puddle
all becomes a muddle.
dripping down from the eves,
mushy sounds on the leaves.
Rumble,   Boom  with the thunder,
CRACK, CRASH  the lightening
flash and slash.
makes me shiver in my bed,
like a child, I pull
the quilt, over my head.
sleepless, lying there.
I decide in my despair,to
get up and see about
making a warm cup
of tea.
warm, soothing, I sip
savoring the citrus scent,
listen to water,  drip until,
good, it's finally spent.
back to bed, cozyly,
I am sent
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I hate night storms!!!!!!!!!!!
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SURVIVOR

A potted Rose
in my neighbor's dooryard,
seems to welcome and
to guard.
A peach colored rose,
struggles  valiantly
to survive.
Blooming, in winter
blushes, to thrive.
Come, heat, or rain,
or ice and  snow,
yet,
produces a lovely
show.
 I marvel at such
a brave, stalwart sight.
For it has twice bloomed,
with determined might.
I value it's lessen.
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MERRY CHRISTMAS

I can't draw like I used to, so I  found  this  really cute picture on the 'net.

MERRY   CHRISTMAS   AND   HAPPY HOLIDAYS.
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