(Naani).
Rat race compete!
Abstract clocks we beat,
Measured by humanity vanishing.
You're old, Father Time.....
Father Time keeps the exchange
and he does not barter,
a minute spent is not redeemable,
what’s done is done, kerplop!
Into the river it drops flowing ever on and away
until it joins the Styx and crosses over
to the unknown realm of death
and what comes after.
However, Father says good deeds are favors
on deposit for crossover at the end,
and may be exchanged for treasure
of the immortal kind.
Time can never be regained,
but deeds done unselfishly
without regard for a reward,
are Father Time’s most highly placed.
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 clock ticking backwards, take me back to my prime.
Whilst halting the hands on that clock, keeping time.
Just think of the benefits of the knowledge you'd keep.
With your age creeping backwards, whilst you quietly sleep.
As you sip from the chalice of the fountain of youth.
You awake from your slumber to find your skin soft and smooth.
The thought of getting old is a bitter pill to swallow.
It's the process of aging that we all have to follow.
The one thing that is certain is a truth so sublime,
We can't turn back the clock of our old 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 her song is
heard forever in the halls of nature's memory,
every brook and every creature in the forest slows its pace.
While the moon reflects the sun and mirrors its own light,
the small hands of time move forwards, ever so slowly.
The sky evolving into an orchestra of music,
shows us an endless parade of sailboats passing by,
they glide then disappear, far into the night
leading us ever closer to the blessed light.
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 this path you chose to take
the world has hope anew
To know you found your dignity
more valuable than pride
that you overcame your darkest fears
to declare what you’ll not abide
Your soul is sure to keep its glow
as you were always dest
Of liberty and freedom
may your heart stay ever blessed
See you soon
All my love and hope,
Father Time
~Jeannie Cronin
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
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 little fish that soon will be fed
Swimming like the guard of life
With a blessing from Father Time
To find a place to go inside
Where our baby grows with your eyes.
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.
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 never lost
Seems to be the case
It's not for sale, has not cost
Destiny is all
It's always on time you see
Should answer the call
Don't get caught being lazy
Once it's gone, it's gone
You can never get it back
Say goodbye, so long
No do over, no backtrack
Bittersweet it is
Wanted, but never promised
A blessing it is
A fleeting gift, so priceless
Oh time marches on
So try to keep pace, oh try
Cause time marches on
Too fast, too slow, it goes by
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 time bring back my laughter?
and the joy to be alive
and can I survive.. this time?
time! never enough time
always the wrong time
all kinds of time
but never a happy time
it takes time to make things
grow, it takes sunshine, rain
but take away the time, the sun
then give only the pain
then nothing grows
now replace the rain with tears..
there"s no time for me
no laughter, or sun only tears
of sadness of what's been done
time of heartbreak, time of woe
always time, but never the right time
so step in Father Time
I need you, one more time..
yet another time...
just one more time....
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
over the ocean.
She may feel like a little
Wind, Rain, Sleet and Snow.
Weather has been known
to let a blizzard blow.
A drought in the desert
together goes well
with scorching heat,
and on some occasions
she has been known
to give us hail
in the middle of
a thunderstorm.
Just to let you know
Weather is always
on the go.
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 or clock so very fast.
And yet you somehow think that I will last.
You have remorse o’er days that now are gone,
You plan for days that yet are coming on,
Yet now is here, what do you stand upon?
I will not always your friend faithful be,
For you must leave my isle for that sea
Where you will spend for all eternity.
What have you done with God while you had time?
Some day I’ll flee from you and you will find
A new dimension--happy or unkind.
It all depends on what you’ve done in life
With time you had to trust in Jesus Christ.
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 time
To admit I'm in my prime
Hey I thought of something nice
I wont have to pay full price
When I eat out or at malls
I guess it's not bad after all
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 forever
My smart brain's no longer clever
I creek with every little move
Tryna find my happy groove
I could be toy silly putty
From skin sagging on my body
My eyesight's blurry and double
Making frightful mirror trouble
Aches and pains in joints and bones
Causing monstrous loud groans
Nap time is now a routine
Sleeping "granny's" a funny scene
I think there's reason for complaining
To a certain someone I'm blaming
Father time please hear my "booing"
For the things you have been doing
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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