- MY QUIET TIME-
I stand here in my memory
Looking from atop a hill,
Down into a valley
To the sound of Whip-O-Will.
I hear the stream a bubble
As it rushes 'cross the rock.
I see the trees all clad in green,
As though a summer frock.
There is a silence in the air
As the day begins to wane
And I walk lazily through the dusk
Along my winding lane.
I travel on in setting sun
To a lake hidden from all view
And there in silent wistful prayer
My feelings do renew.
A small fire on the levee
Will signal kids and spouse
That I'm OK and soon will be
Returning to the house.
But here I have my quiet time
To just spend here with You
And be refreshed for tomorrow
So I can do things I have to do.
Author: Carolyn Ford Witt
Ms. Caroline
©5-18-2006
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem