Father Time Poems - Poems about Father Time

Old Father Time

The process of aging, I think it's a curse.
Why can't it just stop and let's age in reverse?
As your skin starts to wrinkle and your hairs turning grey.
The reality of aging, can we keep it at bay?

Say goodbye to those wrinkles whilst reclaiming your youth.
The thought of getting old, is to me so uncouth.
Get that

Father Time

As the evening turns to a whisper, the sky changes to the color of wine  
and while the trees with their over-shadowed limbs hover by the path,   
saving stars of heaven shine down,  
as brilliant as the eyes of Father Time.  
When the night delivers her last soprano key and

Letters From Dad

My darling Miss America
before I bid you adieu 
I wanted you to know my dear
how proud I am of you 

In my heart I always knew 
that you would find your way
still you had me pretty nervous 
right to the final day 

Sometimes you think it trivial 
the things you choose to do 
but in

Father Time

Father, here I am again at Thy feet,
Asking for some bread to eat.
Perhaps I’ve had more tricks than treats.
May Thou feed me some nourishing words,
Of something bitter sweet.

Maybe while we talk, I can wash Thy feet.
Right now, I am in great need,
And need someone to talk to, can it be Thee?
I want to thank Thee

The Father Time

The end will come to the mother nature,
On the day assigned by the father time;
The end words of lines will no longer rhyme,
The stars won’t shine and the world will rupture.

Fishing By Moonlight

Fishing by moonlight
Using nylons for line
Two inch mews that slip and slide
Slide out of shoes and into night
A gentle breeze whispers here
The air is clean the sky is clear
Take the bait a naked ear
Holding hands like hearts so dear
Blanket seems like a bed
Intimate touches sweetly lighten my head
Shooting stars that seem to be led
And a

Old Father Time

There once was a man called Old Father Time.
He rang in the New Year with a great chime,
	He pushed the old out,
	brought new without doubt,
and promised a new year purely sublime.

Father Time

Oh time marches on 
So try to keep pace, oh try
Cause time marches on
Too fast, too slow, it goes by

It leaves without me
No warning given, takes off
It stops despite me
No not now, don't pause I scoff

One or the other
Always opposite of need
Oh how I suffer
Father time ignores my plead

Time, King of the race
I'm afraid its

Father Time

Time will heal a broken heart
or so they say, but how meany
times can one heart be broken
then survive?can time turn
back the hands of a clock?
to sunshine,smiles and
I love you's?
can father time step in
and work yet another
miracle of healing?
can time unlock the door?
or melt a heart that's froze?
and can time stand by me
just one more time?
can

Weather

The Seasonal family 
of Mother Nature
and Father Time
When it comes to
a family reunion,
they are never far behind.
Winter, Spring, Summer 
and Fall.

With her daughter 
always on the ball.
Mother Nature’s 
first born, Weather.

She is not as predictable 
as we would like to think.
Weather may be 
in the mood for
named hurricanes 
or devastating tornadoes. 
She'll place water spouts

Father Time

soon to be replaced
yearning for much needed rest
farewell father time

Father Time

FATHER TIME

I am an isle upon an endless sea,
I am an eclipse of eternity.
I keep my pace and stopped I cannot be.
You measure me in seconds, minutes, days,
And yet you have no wisdom nor no ways
To rush me or to slow my steady pace.
You work by me, you watch my hands that pass
Upon your watch

White Hair and a Father Time Visit

I found a white hair today
And I made it go away
Plucking it out of my head
I don't want to see this dread
Reminding me I'm getting older
Ad more fall upon my shoulder
I thought I was way to young
Full of energy and fun
But I'm older than I thought
I guess father time has caught
Up to me saying its

Father Time Has Made Me Lose My Prime

Its a shame how less and less
My dream is in total distress
For staying youthful and not growing
old--but each day it is showing
More and more-it will not end
There's no cure--I'm at the end
Of keeping myself free of age
Each day brings another stage
There are wrinkles on my wrinkles
Its hard to hold in my tinkles
Walking one step takes

Mother Goose and Father Time

Mother Goose and Father Time
All together had children nine.
Love ruled hers,
His were let free.
All wound up productive, happy and fine.

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