Where has the time gone,?
Where have the leave blown?
Only the dew drops say,
these speckles in my hair are gray!
Yet, I do not know it,
this body doesn't show it.
I still aid production
of life the Creator gives!
My grandfather once said.
He was four score and five.
Twice a child and once a man,
ponder son you will understand.
Leaves still fall and roll about,
this peaceful but dimly lit street.
Red, yellows, purples, and browns,
Autumn's colors and nightly sounds.
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Edwin
Some people are ashamed of their age, as for me I am proud the Lord blessed me to live as long as I have. There's obits in the paper of so many young people losing their lives that I feel blessed to have lived as long as I have. My Mother died at 39 yrs old. I try to count every blessing, dear friend. We aren't promised another day. Excellent poem!
Blessings,
~Linda