Seconds into minutes, then minutes into hours�
Hours into days, that are filled
with springtime flowers.
Then days turn into weeks, then months turn into years�
Before
you catch a glimpse of it, the time has passed we fear.
Years can be like
bookmarks, to help us remember when�
We laughed or cried, or reached the sky,
and what we did back then.
They mark the times within our lives, when things did
come and go�
Of sun and rain, and heartfelt pain, and winter's sleeping snow.
Seconds
into minutes, then minutes into hours�
Hours into days, that are filled with springtime
flowers.
Then days turn into weeks, then months turn into years�
We try to
make the best of them, for the time that we were here.
Years turn into memories,
we build them every one�
Of times we made, from hours and days, and moments filled
with sun.
So when the days have passed us by, and there is naught to do�
I
look through them as bookmarks, and memories of you.
Ron Walker
March
2000
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