This Life, oh it is far too brief.
That traitor, Time, steals like a thief,
but days are long when songbirds sing:
sweet sounds they share this sacred spring.
These hours, when golden rays feel warm
(cut short by sudden senseless storm)
still shine sublime inside my soul,
a memo crafted to console.
These lines, laid down before I pass,
(as dew drop pearls that grace the grass,)
will fade, like poet's toils and tears,
to leave sweet dreams of golden years.
-
Author:
Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 24th, 2025 07:36
- Comment from author about the poem: a poem of hope
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments3
Let hope arise!🕊️🙏🏻
Yeah! Many thanks, a.
Most welcome Kevin🙏🏻🕊️
A most beautiful rhyme about fading away with age. Wonderful wording
Thank you for your kind comments and feedback.
Lovely write on how we fade away over time, some lovely lines in this write, enjoyed the read
Many thanks, PL
You are very welcome
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