Your Time Is Yet To Come Poem by Paul Reed

In a sudden moment
A calmness descends
And the war with Winter is assuaged,
The waves cease to crash
A truce with despair is struck
On the fields where the battle raged;

We taste the scented freshness
Our feet run on the warming grass
Amongst peeping buttercup and clover,
Once our children ran alongside us
Now our grandchildren bound away
There is a feeling of handing over;

Your time is yet to come
Across all seasons and wars
The treasure is locked away still,
The magnificence not yet dawned
Your life to flourish and blossom
Like the budding daffodil.