Another day, a month, a year,
They all move on so fast;
The “love” affairs, the “true” friendships,
Nothing seems to last.
T’is here today, but not tomorrow,
For nothing seems enduring;
Not even the pain, or even the sorrow,
For all wounds Father Time is curing.
A tree that is perhaps today,
Was not yesterday, nor will tomorrow;
The weather changes day by day,
Or even hour by hour.
That little speck that is a seed,
Will soon become a flower,
And then, alas, t’will be no more,
So ends its brief glory.
And so twelve months have come and gone,
Yet no one seems to ‘ave noticed,
For as the fleeting comet shone,
So has the year escaped us.
And yet there’s much that does endure,
For all the things that change;
There’s Love, and Life, and Almighty Might,
There’s always Sun, and always Moon,
And always Day and Night.
And so there’s hope, encouragement,
For another year to see,
And when those twelve months ‘ve come and gone,
There’ll still be you and me.
For in our hearts, and in our souls,
We’ll always go on, more,
So in the Twilight of Our Times,
We will be what endure.
© Copyright by The Poet Way
