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My Choice
Fondly viewed through my mind’s eye,
Ever youthful, ever spry,
Live those friends of bygone days,
Full of pranks and cheerful ways.
Were we really so carefree,
Or is it that I prefer to see
Them ambling down my memory’s lane
Free of sorrow, free from pain?
Why hold on to life’s grim parts;
Why not recall the lighter hearts?
After all, I can choose
To paint my past in somber hues
Or, dipping my brush in summer sun
Tint my landscapes bright with fun.
Yes, I think - just for today -
I'll not use any shades of gray.
It’s enough, as I drift to sleep,
I hear voices softly weep.
© 2002 Thurman P. Woodfork
My Dear friend...Woody!
I can look at your paintings
for hours
and hours...and the sorrows
are colors.......... shared!
...and dreams that hide the small laughter
of when we were boys,
given away to a mad world.
We returned...despite the war.
We returned.....
and write...,
and paint,
the memory
for all to see!
RC (Cal Klaiber)
Webmaster: Thurman P. Woodfork
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