TimeOut
The time has come to count the cost
of all the precious hours lost,
a mind that's fixed upon a dream
and still pursuing endlessly
until the day should come at last
and gain that which I cherish most.
Knowing all which must be done,
yet leaving most of it unspun
I think of what my Father said,
but wouldn't sink into my head,
"These things shall pass, one day at last,
and you'll look back on them and laugh".
If only Dad could see me now,
with wrinkled frown upon my brow
and worry showing in my eyes,
too late I come to realise
if I'm to do the things I wish,
it's time to do them with a smile.
Frustration comes with each new day,
there seems so little time to play.
I hear the words of Zig and George,
never wanting to ignore.
Yet whilst I know their words are truth
I fail to put them to good use.
Take the dog, go for a walk,
noise and violence in the park.
In the town it's just the same,
full of anger, feel ashamed
that people argue, spit and cuss,
throw litter, make the place a mess.
These things are out of my control,
feeling tired, sick and old,
but still a youngster in my mind
and so I smile and then decide
to take the time and take a break,
let the weary mind unwind.
The days are hot, the nights are cool,
to neglect my walks I'd be a fool.
Avoid the heat, bad sounds and sights
and walk with Shadow in the night.
That way the body feels refreshed
and life's not a distasteful mess.
Bad neighbours might not go away,
but at least we'll get our time to play.
© Copyright July 2006 Kenneth G Woolcock
|
Subscribe FREE 
