Three poems from our message board.
This Moment In Time
This moment in time will never come again;
So take full advantage of it, my friend.
Years stack upon years made up of countless months and days,
And our lives read out like so many forgotten plays.
Where do all those moments go in the twinkling of an eye?
I lay my head on my pillow and let out a sigh.
I donít understand how life really works.
It seems like it has so many ups and downs along with so many quirks.
Older people have told me along the way,
How it flees before their eyes and is definitely not here to stay.
The wrinkles they come as the children take your place.
The mirror tells the story of the lines upon your face.
Where is the justice in all of this?
When does the road end with all its turns and twists?
Youth has its problems with money and time,
But age gives way to wisdom without reason or rhyme.
I wish I had had this house when the children were young,
Now it is wonderful, but it is quiet without life songs to be sung.
Each day that goes by seems like it is wasted as it melts into time.
I wish I could save them and live them over as up this steep mountain I climb.
© By Phyllis Ann (Starbird55@aol.com)
Time does not walk down the middle of the road,
Nor does it always seem to an alarm clock be.
Time is a continuum, it must be,
Something both positive and surely negative.
Time waits for no man or woman,
Time marches on regardless of what we wish.
As a child we wished it faster,
So adults we could then be.
But through the middle of life,
Time we did ignore and not think of,
For in our race to achieve
We, it did not consider or see.
But as the hair grows thin,
As the salt into our hair does creep,
We begin to at the clock take a look,
Wondering how and why so much has passed us by.
Now that my step has slowed,
And my back is not as straight as it was,
As my body has a couple inches shrunk,
Do look at time and near panic.
But as I this do pen,
I think of all the hills I have roamed,
And look to the Alpine ones ahead,
Please let me those hurdles, be able to crawl over.
© By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)
Passive Petunia went nowhere,
Passive Petunia sat in her easy chair.
Thunder clapped - rain from the sky,
Passive Petunia let the world go by.
Poor and sick were crying,
Petunia never cared;
She had her TV and stars on the air.
Passive Petunia would never dare
Involve herself anywhere.
And while she was letting the world go by
Petunia never thought that she could die
Yes, right there - in her old easy chair.
© By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)