Elusive Time


Just a constant steady flow,
the passage of endless time,
for it is always on the go,
can’t call it yours or mine.

The minutes turn to hours,
as we age with every flash,
forget to smell the flowers,
youth to senility often clash.

Days pass into the week,
without a clue we wander,
not knowing what to seek,
never stopping to ponder.

Weeks past to aging years,
not realizing what we miss,
no one left to wipe the tears,
nothing more than an old list.

No regrets to those who try,
good or bad you do your best,
always just wondering why,
for life is but a mystical test.


Samuel E. Stone, Copyright© 2006, All Audiences