Evening sun aglistens on
The Spanish moss clad oaks,
Their black trunks agnarling
To Frame the golden hour
Before old Sun sets so red.
It’s time to sit and ponder
About fortunes allotted
To this denizen of the world.
Hark Now – not to rhyme ain’t no crime
But not to reason is mindly treason.
As temps rise from cool to warm
Light changes from soft to sharp
Whilst the day passes on by.
Mornings are seen through misty air
Still much laden with midnight’s dew.
Evening’s air is dry and clear.
Yes. Quiet time, this end of day.
Birds asettling, a time to ease.
Could my mind rest so well
As news pundits tell
Of dastardly enemies
Plotting harm to our well-favored land.
Mindset moves from ‘do’ to ‘done’ as old
Age bring clarity to my mind.
Life’s temperature changes while
Old Time marinates experiences.
Another day in the bank
To be savored with interest.
Some are good – some worrisome.
I thank the power for
Her bounteous gifts of
Time and consciousness.
Tomorrow – who knows? Next week – too far!
Next year. Nevermore.
A million or a billion
Out of mind and reach. Evermore.
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