Hear the clock ticking
As time passes by
Watch as the seasons disappear
At the wink of an eye
See how a child grows
And the years speed on their way
Knowing there is nothing we can do
To stop the passing of yesterday
One day we are children
Walking to school
Next we are teenagers
Breaking all the rules
Then we are adults
With children of our own
And then like magic
They have families of their own
One day we are young
Then we are old
And the time in between
Is our tender years
That pass so quickly
They are gone without trace
Leaving only the memories
Of the magic we couldn’t contain
So very true David... Do you not think though as kids, the days where long and slow... great writing 8
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This brought me in mind of the opening lines of Gordon Lightfoot's lovely but very sad song, Too Late For Prayin' It was only yesterday When I heard the teacher say Patiently, one and two make three We were children you and me You capture very well in this one the beauty, glory and sadness of life and its endlessly cyclical nature. I sometimes wonder though if the tender years aren't the periods at the start and the end, with the phase in the middle - the programmed breeding period to put it crudely - as the functional phase. With the passing of the breeding phase we seem to move into one where we become more self aware, less programmed even and genuinely more sensitive again than we were while doing nature's bidding. Just a thought - perhaps a phase I'm going through. Apologies for taking up so much space. You got me thinking again. Good poem sir. Thanks, jim