All of the Time

ALL OF THE TIME There in a frigid winters dawn before the rising of the sun so brilliantly in red array on streaks of clouds all dark and gray there is some thought of you. There in a springtime morning rain through birth of life and all its pain of every living thing that grows the leaving trees, the cherished rose, there is some thought of you. There in a summers evening shade when day is done and plans are made and sound of life sings vibrantly then stills at dark so suddenly, there is some thought of you. There when the goose takes to its wing the soul of life's great wandering from here to there and there to here through hope of things, or greatest fear, there is some thought of you. And then another freeze sets in once more the winter nights begin alone to sing the same old song, both every night and all day long there is some thought of you. © Ron Wilson akaq Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet