Time marched like clouds across an angry sky,

 While the golden children of the light paraded by,

Two by three they strayed into the night.

As thunder echoed in a resounding voice,

Bestowing omens of knowledge unto the mortals below.

 Reason without understanding was now taking hold,

 Giving way to a truth that all come to know,

 That in life no man is able to retain his soul.

Therefore, a dark sadness grips the heart

 as we watch the clouds of time race and part.

 What once was in the bliss of youth a warm spring day,

 Has in old age turned its face to a cold winters gray.

 Times persistent ticking continues, as man ponders

 his closing day.......

 Tick..Tick..Tick...hush now,

Little children, don’t you cry.

 J. Allen Wilson © 2003