Poem

What to convey?
Heck what do I say?
Depends on the moment,
What I need to get out.

Why does it help?
Almost like therapy?
Like a gulp of medicine you take,
Then a release or relief of syptoms happen in time.

Does it cool or thoughts?
Release the memories?
Allow us to share our grief?
Understand or come to terms?

I am not so sure.
But it is better than a hurl.
I know it works for me.
That is all I care it to be.

Author Notes

Poetry and poems I write have come to mean help for me as a means of therapy

© Sandra Lynn Mallo Adcock. All rights reserved,

Becky

Becky,
My best friend
I've known you forty plus years!

Heck,
You know my mind.
Age we will share, as we have tears.

Check,
Time as it blinds,
All our affairs friendship bares.

Children,
Ours grown, or all almost.
From child to grandparent.

Forbidden,
Between best friends there is no gloating.
And, that to us-each other- our lives are transparent.

Declarant,
I will be devoting,
My love for you, Becky, is inherant, and I shall be your servant.

Author Notes

Becky is my best friend of 45 years.  We know eacy other inside and out.

I have never seen a triverse quite like this.  But I thought I would tryit.

© Sandra Lynn Mallo Adcock. A