If I Could Turn Back the Hands of Time
IF I COULD TURN BACK THE HANDS OF TIME....
If I could turn back the hands of time,
To sight of green grass and colourful flowers nod together,
In warm, quiet and friendly whisper in the midday breeze,
The language I could clearly treasure and understand,
Under the verdant branches in the veldt where I used to play.
If I could turn back the hands of time,
To melancholy songs of the cuckoo birds,
To the bees murmuring, small birds chanting merrily,
To the sounds of water in raging rivers and streams,
And the heavy pattering rain on the zinc roof.
If I could turn back the hands of time,
To smells of steaks and chips in the passageways,
Delightful odours of plants so sweet and strong,
To home brewed beers in the over-brimming glasses,
And the golden apple green as the fridge swings open.
If I could turn back the hands of time,
And feel warm heater air caressing me in winter,
The soft touch of aircon in the sweltering atmosphere,
Sweet taste of coffee and cold drinks to relieve fatigue as the sun breaks,
That made me dream of the events before tomorrow!
I used to stretch my hands, dressed myself and went where I wanted,
But now , with my joints all aching, senses fading and eyes gradually growing dim,
I stretch out my hands and somebody dresses me up,
And leads me to where I do not want to go,
Yes, I cannot turn back the hands of time now!
Copyright © Simon M Matlou | Year Posted 2012
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