The Sweetest Song Poem by Ernestine Northover

Sweet song of youth that wishes to escape,
and shape this world, with wings unfurled.

Such energies abound, and how very
sound, seem all the theories.

But maybe they are illusions, or forgone conclusions.

We all, when young think we are among the
famous-to-be and the strong, but time can prove wrong.

For very few will battle it through, to carve their name
in the hall of fame.

Sad but true, I'm afraid, it's really hard to make the grade.

If luck does come your way, you'll be distinguee.
But don't aim too high, unless you can fly, for to drop
from any elevated place, is to fall from grace, and no one
likes to tumble from the top, and be a flop.

So slow your pace, no need to race, let time sort out
what life is all about.
And when your moment comes along,
it will be the sweetest song.

© Ernestine Northover