Poetry

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Life may come in around about way for some or all its just day by day an ordinary thing to say should life be like a sliver spoon thats made or human ways can spell delays old age relays a youths own gaze hope to know our knowable stay it came and now it went always heaven sent is that all of lifes content think about the makers of time reflect or acts become defects who sent the day that found its way thankful to write this seemed a brief potray does it weigh up the day or a lifes delay into that pool where knowledge tends to rule each numbered day it comes to stay who judges time or our lifes lenght define us mortal man in a days own way apt to use our enthuse sadly we can no day refuse thats beyond our natures ruse next days news, can't say excuse

Joe.

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