Of Times Gone By
How pleasant, now, to think of times gone by,
Of childhood, youth, of family, and friends.
How strange, at times, to see where mem'ry wends.
How swiftly, now, with age those mem'ries fly.
Like fireflies, some glow brightly, then they die,
While some's incessant glimmer never ends,
And some with which I have not made amends.
Still pleasant, though, to think of times gone by,
And even if the bad outweigh the good,
I wouldn't change one of them if I could.
Each mem'ry's worth its weight in precious gold,
A treasure trove that's mine alone to hold.
Such lovely thoughts that time cannot erase.
Each gilds and glorifies its time and place.
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