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By N/A
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It passes.
An invisible flow...
I was just a child not so long ago.
Wide eyed and innocent
laughter and tears,
through a childhood so precious,
my happiest of years.
It passes.
Youthful and free, never a thought
of who I would be.
It passes.
Níer to return,
Canít live it over
But my heart does yearn,
To see in my kids
Lessons well learned.
To know that maybe
I did some things right,
As my daylight of living
Softens to night
And each of us mellows
As time takes its leave,
Knitting our hearts
With Godís lovely weave.
And my days and my years
In my memory chime
And Home draws nearer...
It passes.

Bonnie David

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Submitted: Monday, May 17, 2004

Last Updated: Thursday, May 20, 2004

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