Time...She Is A Fleeting Thing Poem by david lessard

Time...she is a fleeting thing,
A rainbow, a bird on the wing,
A brief shower, a song to sing,
A picture, a sweet and lovely fling,
A tortured heart, a wedding ring,
A poor man, a wealthy king,
A bow and an arrow that went ZING!

Time...the healer of all wounds, they say,
The learning tree that makes our way,
The wonder of the earth and clay,
The childhood when we were at play,
The memories that die and stay,
Drink on the table, food on the tray
The dreams and nightmares that keep us at bay
The will to go on...come what may.

Time...that sometimes bitter pill,
That sometimes scary thrill,
That sometimes runs uphill,
That sometimes is against your will,
That sometimes makes the heart stop still,
That sometimes words can't fill,
The hardest thing to take and kill.

Time...she is a fleeting thing...
and we can't control,
what she may bring...
time...the stuff of life that's flowing,
the stream that carries you,
and you know not where it's going.