The Hands Of Time Poem by Robert Edgar Burns

The hands of time are quickly beaten down.
A new baby today, but don’t you turn around.
Where are you going, my little one you’ll say,
But they’re soon grown, if you look away!

Now every warrior is someone’s child,
War takes away for a little while.
Though some may fall and others tell,
Of courageous souls, who fought so well.

Salvation cometh from Zion’s Hill one day,
New Jubilee, to those bowed to pray!
Jehovah’s trumpets will beckon and call,
Come see your children now,
Standing proud and tall!

The prophet’s words are coming true
From Elijah’s time, into my days too!
Hear ye oh Earth, this for all mankind.
We are waltzing to, the “Hands Of Time! ”