Monday, June 7, 2010


Sometimes its hard to recognize
The swift and fleeting hour
Until we turn to realize
That youth is but a flower……
A flower that blooms for one short day
Before its petals fall
Upon the fields of silver-gray
In moments to recall

How sweet and pure its tender grass
Where innocence is shaken
As childhood with its whispers pass
Into the room where wakens
The heart that beats with hopes and dreams
And restless wander-lust
Too soon, too soon its memory gleams
From cradles in the dust

And now we walk a slower pace
As time in its wise teaching
Shows us our need for Grace
And Hands beyond our reaching
So as I look back to the field
Where one brief dance I squandered
I envy not her misty shield
Or those blue hills I wandered

For now, though innocence is gone
With youth and all her beauty
Though carefree hours long have flown
Beyond my realm of duty
Within the arms of middle-age
And dusty blue September
Tenderly I turn the page
And humbly I remember

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

Birthdays always make me nostalgic........

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