Time

I know the time is passing,
No minute does it lack.
It moves on slippered feet,
I can not call it back.

Far across the lay of the land,
It ever travels on.
And right before my very eyes,
In no time it is gone.

A birthday to a laughing child,
In celebration rings.
His time is but a joyous breath,
Of which he gayly sings.

An old man walking slowly,
With a twisted cane.
His time will soon come to an end,
And to return would be in vain.

For time once lived and passes,
Is just another day.
And the day of trial and error,
Will ever come our way.


E.P. 1908 - 1989