Tempus Fugit ©
Don't put off till tomorrow what you can do today.
Write what you feel, and let your mind steal, o'er green fields and memories of childhood.
Or sit and day dream by a gurgling stream, while birds' sing in yonder wild wood.
The corn in the breeze bends with such ease, while white clouds across the heavens go racing,
And wild roses grow in hedgerows so low while the old oak the sky is embracing.
The child on the swing and the church bells ring, all bring back memories divine,
Of seaside trips and the crab that nips at your toes as you walk alone in the brine.
The misty gray dawns and the loud morning yawns as people prepare for work,
But the morning mist clears and the warm sun appears and makes all the flowers smirk.
So don't sit and frown but write it all down, and someday let someone enjoy,
and be not distraught for it cost you naught, and don't get all uptight and coy.
There are lots of memories never put down, and people don't bother to save,
So the young that follow miss out and holler, it's too late, they have gone to the grave.