Time


When one is young, time seems to run forever
As the years go by, very little is left of Time.
For youth knows there are still many a summer
As old age awaits with dread the final chime.

The days of youth are full of mirth and laughter
It is a time of happy thoughts and carefree love.
Old age is the season of solitude and of sad winter
When eyes more and more look to the stars above.

Youth sleeps on soft moss and flowers in full array
With dreams of dancing nymphs and smiling streams.
Old age slumbers in fits and starts as if to delay
Of the fateful hour quick flashes of vanishing dreams.

But time is ticking away for old and young alike
In its relentless onward march into infinity.
Soon enough will death the young made old strike
And past and future are the time that will forever be.


Claudio