Written by: William Crocker

I like the slow times . . .
	When all the work is done,
	And evening shadows creep
	Across the fields;
	When somber trees
	Stand still and wait . . .
		For darkness to descend.

I like the slow winds . . .
	That stir the waters
	With their playful hands,
	And send their ripples
	To bathe the tired feet
	Of giant firs, that stand . . .
		In watch along the shore.

I like the slow trains . . .
	That  climb the hills
	With plaintive, lonely wails;
	And send their echoes
	Searching through the night,
	For sleepy little towns . . .
		That lie along their paths.

I like the slow days . . .
	When all the time is mine,
	And fantasies and dreams
	Come calling on my mind;
	And anxious thought
	Stand still and wait . . .
		To repossess my mind.

I like the slow walks . . .
	When evening shadows fall,
	When times we spend alone
	Are silent hours
	Of listening to our hearts
	Whispering words of love . . .
		That only God can hear.

I like the slow times . . .
	When you are by my side.