Biography of Dayle Gaylin
Raised in Idaho attending the Meridian school system and ITT Tech in Boise. Moved to Calif in 1985 then on to Colorado in 1990.
Dayle Gaylin Poems
As We Become One
For my wife Brenda The time has come for us to stand before God And unite as husband and wife
Time is of the essence, in the world that I’m in. I’m confused, bewildered - don’t know where to begin. It’s like a maze, a game, or maybe a trap. You don’t know where you’re going, or where you’re at.
What Is Beauty To You?
Beauty is what in the eyes of man? Is it beauty of people or beauty of land? Is it fresh as the morning mountain air? Blowing gently through your golden red hair?
Bright colors of the rainbow, filter from the west. The sun slowly sets, on top of the mountain crest. Clouds move east, from the western shores. Releasing natures beauty, upon the earth once more.
Walk hand-in-hand down the empty street. Weeds roll round on the barren concrete. A shutter pounds where the window was. Heart bounding,
Days To Pass
The warmth of the morning sun reaches down and brings life. Arise from the depths of the sea. Stand up and be one. Draw back from the evils, go forth and stand out. Unite as a family. Do what must be done.
Magical Power Of Love
Elude the taunting evils that lurk in beyond. But be blessed with love and laughter, while I’m gone. When alone again, drift back into time – but beware. Your defenses are down, love again if you dare.
Unrecorded By Time
Every minute without you, is a minute unrecorded by time Every time a memory plays, it plays a lovers chime Every day you bless my path, you set the memory tune Every night I watch your face shine bright against the moon
See The Light
Love comes in many forms and shapes. It’s hard to describe. The way one feels about another. The way one feels inside.
What Kind Of Fool Am I
What kind of fool am I, to know not what I want. To hear not what is said, to know only of hate. A fool who will never know of the joys of a gift. But will know only of the blunders I make.
That Favorite Song
The story of Mary and Jimmy O’Toole. The story of a day to remember. Of the love of the young, the passing of friends, and the day that the story ends.
The Past Holds The Memories
Recalling times - passed by years. An ending love. Forgotten friends. A memory that never ends.
The Joys Of Love
Ah – the joys of love. What marvelous ventures await us? Sailing off into a dream. Hunting for what treasures may bring.
What A Beautiful Day
Rain dances at the window seal, getting my attention as I read the newspaper by the evening fire. Looking out,
Time is of the essence, in the world that I’m in.
I’m confused, bewildered - don’t know where to begin.
It’s like a maze, a game, or maybe a trap.
You don’t know where you’re going, or where you’re at.
So, you run around blind. Knowing not how or who.
Looking for answers, or even a clue.
As to why you’re here, or why you’re there?
Why you love, or why you care?