Remembering A Quieter Time...

I wrote this piece two years before Patrick's stroke:
Yes, you can kiss me while I'm playing my guitar.
I'm sitting on our front porch waiting for the county bus to the city.
I can do errands, stop into a thrift store to buy little forgotten treasures that no one sees the value in, but you and I.
Perhaps along the way, I will find a a multicolored super ball where a child bounced it far from reach. It hit the pavement and slid off into a hidden place for me to find.
I will bring it to you, a treasure to fill your wooden boxes with, secret treasures for your inner child.
Or perhaps i will find a broken piece of pottery with pretty designs of blue colors or pieces of flowers still visible in the shard.
Yes, you can kiss me while I'm playing my guitar.

I will call you from town first chance I get .My love waits behind with our three goofy dogs on our sandy desert land. We are surrounded by living Christmas trees we plant every year.
Fifteen years we have been together, and I still love to be with you.
I feel strengthened when you hold my hand.
You speak of a time 20-30 years from now, when you're dead and buried. Speaking Plans to protect me as you often do. I say, let's live life today and forget tomorrow. Forget trouble, death and sorrow. Let's be grateful for our quietness. We have climbed difficult roads before, both together and before we met, and I have no doubt life is hard.But for now let us be thankful for what we have, for birds and rabbits and lizards and sunrises that we watch from our from our back porch.
Life is being good to us.
And in case you were wondering and didn't want to disturb me,
yes, you can kiss me while I'm playing my guitar.