A Passing Place
An age in our existence its story’s on my mind,
I find some sweet reflections in seasons passing by,
My soul yearns so, for that which ‘was’,
A time of dust gold-wheat where timber stools sat by limpid pool
The taste of hard-boiled sweets,
With gathered friends where laughter rang, as smooth as Woodgrain worn,
So smooth was skin at seventeen,
Oh Lord let me go back for just once more;
I’ll right the wrongs; I’d sing that song that hid behind young lips,
To make Dad proud in his small world,
And Mom I’ll have your extra hug and kiss,
Then I’d say to all of them don’t worry in this flesh, of others
Stares or unneeded cares, or the grudge you’re told to keep,
For the end will come to all these things much sooner than you think,
Don’t hold too long to pain and wrong
Life’s short so keep things sweet.
© Joe Maverick 09-01-2010
From Original draft 18-08-2009
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