that times seems to fly by.
When we were, young
days never seem to end.
There was always enough time
to do everything we wanted to do,
but as you get older
there is no time anymore.
Is it the world or is it I
that find there is less time
to do all I want to do.
When I was young
I never worried about time,
but now it’s so precious
that I bless every minute and second I get.
I thought the exercisewould improve my physique.My ex-boss saw me one day,then declared Arnie Sweatyknickershas come to town,and a new action hero was born.
and soon you’ll be going home,and once again hanging up,your Cinderella shoes.(8 August 2007)
Danced on the small wavesA hiss of rolling stones broke the silenceAs waves invaded and retreated on the shoreThey walked oblivious to it allThe silent whispers from their eyesTold the age old storyAs they strolled beneath the heavensWith its millions of eyesNo voices broke the stillnessOf their evening blissThe smiles etched on their facesOnly spoke…
Do they come along with us,or do they carry on?Does someone else inherit themand stumble in the darknesstrying to make them come true?Do they mingle with theirswith each vying for the rightto be the first to come true?Where do all our dreams gowhen its time for us to pass on?27 July 2009
my eyes exploring everything I sawand filed it away in my memory store.Now as I’ve got olderthose insignificant thingscome back to me now and then.They fill my life with sanitywhen I think I’m going around the bend.Some of those thingsI incorporate in whatever I write.A touch of nostalgiafor others who remember them as well.28 April…
that strips away the green coats from treesleaving them bare and barrenbefore Jack Frost fills the morning air.Collars hug closely around necksas the cold white down fall from the sky,to lay a pale blanket on the groundthat hides some of the unsightly sights and sounds.Fires burn with radiant glowas out faced hands try too capture…
