I will write you a rhyme of a far away place
Where mine years ago was a familiar face
To many there today a stranger i would be
A new generation would not know of me
In the mild drizzly days of late April in Spring
The skylark above the brown bog-land did sing
Lost to view in the gray clouds of the evening sky
I could hear him sing as upwards he did fly
A familiar voice of the Spring of the year
The song of the blackbird in fancy i hear
His beautiful song so flute like and clear
The grove he sings in to my thoughts ever near
I will write you a rhyme of my first Hometown
Near where i used to live when my hair was dark brown
Where i was known to many to many i would be a stranger today
Time does not wait as the wise one does say
I will write you a rhyme of a memory in decay
Of a place i once loved from here far away
But we can only live in the now as the wise one does say
And at 12 a m this evening the past will be today.
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
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