Letter

 

Mona, 

First, I’m issuing a blanket apology for everything I say or write to you. That video of your dearest granddaughter was so very nice and comforting. I saw something in Allie’s eyes, first and foremost, her appreciation of YOU. Yet, and I’m speculating only, I saw her missing her Daddy to run to, like any girl that age would want. Mona, you have this aura of great credibility and endless love. 

Please, keep her mind occupied, she’s going to have a hard time on her own, during college. You show her how to play that harmonica that you play so well, maybe piano lessons, you probably are way ahead of me anyway on these matters of the heart. Don’t let her dwell upon that darkness. Keep her in the light, keep her busy, and don’t let her wander into that dark hole of depression. I think she could do anything in this world but you must confirm to her whatever endeavors she pursues that you’re behind her 100%. I fell into that dark hole, and I nearly drowned in that Hell hole too. You show her how to be Funny, and how to be loved. 

Monet, you know what I miss more from you than anything? Your complete and unadulterated zaniness, that impeccable chuckle of yours, that funny-side Monet. I love laughter more than anything on this Earth. Laughter keeps the Blues away. 

Well, I hope I didn't pry into your affairs. I wish in life we got a mulligan or a “tabula rasa” because life is Hell. 

Tabula Rasa

 

Have you ever fallen apart? 

Jokes

We were so poor growing up that instead of having sweet potato pie, we had carrot pie.  

Magnum Mihi Mysterium Sum(Latin)

 

In your direst eulogy, will you miss

mostly the million shades of sunsets or 

the million hues of sunrises? This life

will strangle you with memories. 

Up That Lonesome Hill

 

They all talk about that lonesome Hill…

They all talk about that lonesome Hill…

They all talk about that lonesome Hill…

I'm going up there sometime…

I'm going up there sometime…

I'm going up there sometime…

(Harmonica) 

 

Some people in power will say anything to win nothing. 

Strange Abode

 Strange Abode

A leery and winding road led me to a cul-de-sac,

an old residence, this strange abode lured me 

in its doorway like a warm guest,

I entered the ravished gem-shackled mansion,

upon my entrance,

I stared long at this black widow spider in a corner

as it played Mozart's "Serenade Gran Partita."

My first step nearly squished a flamboyant mouse

who seemed to dine alone as it grinned

with a diastema wide as an ivory key.

The hallway lay in oak hardwood and stood firmly

as I creaked across the doorway of some forgotten

servant's room, a ghost appeared as some mute

ageless hologram, my guide to this eerie museum

of otherworldly mystique.

The ghost led me to the stairwell,

I climbed each step,

as if I were Lord Hyattsworn himself;

there on the first-floor hallway

each passing portrait lit up

as if I were their new resurrecting god.

On the balcony, I stared up at the full moon,

and slowly turned around,

"Good Evening Sir, glad you could make it," the figure

said in the shadows, there at that moment I knew

I made the wrong turn.