Father Time is an old, old, man
I caught him one day as he rounded the bend
To me, said he, "Come hither, my lad
Let us sit for a while and talk"
Pulled up a seat, gave drink and some eat
Commencing the discussion to come
Looked down on me, with wonder and glee
"Look boy, here comes the sun
What a glorious sight to behold from this height"
Turned with a start, he quizied his thought
"Son, what brings you to me?"
Looked upon his brow, all furrowed, I cowed
"The world is losing me-
Slipped from my grasp, regardless how fast I be"
"The world may falter, speed, or slow
For time is yours to behold"
The wisdom wise, squinted my eyes
Back in the meadow, I see
Looked in the sky, beheld my mind's eye
Singing things may be
Share This Poem