Poetry
Whilst looking into or through a mirror;a chance to see a non stop flowing river,GOD;made the land,
ever so grand,its nice to see where mountain's stand,for some a treasure that be;where a mirror slept
imagination crept,so easy to see what is not there,treasure is a heart's own chest,it knows what's
best,extended time in mind can last;when only thinking of the past,to wander in where thought's
begin,the present is what went so fast;each day became its own repast,to savior then what's
called a day,what insight can i give away;time consumed,and not presumed.
Joe.
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Time is a unit; and like a river it does flow one day into another until there is an eternity of time.
The shame is that we do not heed the advice to treasure it when it is the NOW.