Counting Days

Counting Days In how many ways do I count the days Those passing golden days we said were ours, The warm bright days and the slow dulled days The eternal rhythm of passing hours. Those familiar travelled paths and ways, The greeting and reluctant parting time, The lost numbers of the forgotten days Calm days of unchronicled silent time. Mist shrouded days; days that are sharp and clear, The unlisted quiet and the busy time, The memory visited far past years The doing nothing and the resting time. Barry Stebbings Oct 2024