Precious Times Poem by Wakefield Mahon

Precious are times of perfect quiet
When we do neither right nor wrong
When passivity brings us to dreams
By a gentle river of song

Our tired eyes have set to rest
For a moment, our heart is at peace
As we enter the eight hour death
When the world of the senses seems to cease

Dreams, thank the Lord for Dreams
Like innocent girls and boys
We can still find our way
Back to the land of joy

Precious are the times of perfect love
When roses seem to bloom all year 'round
When we are elevated to another time and place
By the joyous affection we have found

Our tired hearts have set to rest
And we lie in each other's arms
We gaze at loving eyes and feel blessed
For we know they will shield us from harm

Love, thank the Lord for Love
Like innocent girls and boys
We can still find our way
Back to the land of joy

Precious are times of perfect peace
When weapons have been laid to rest
When the only weapon is unified love
And the war against unhappiness

Our contentious mouths have set to rest
For there is no longer need
For the fools are vanquished, the proud made low
And no one for hatred must bleed

Peace, thank the Lord for Peace
Like innocent girls and boys
We can still find our way
Back to the land of joy