These are the days of grass
We shall not pass
This way again
Time does not refund one hour
To loiter in the balmy bower
Of youth’s hungry, untried dreams
Nor dare, with boundless virgin power
The lust of it’s untested schemes
For Time, life’s ever-wizened teacher
Corrals our brazen scope
Offering us today for living
And for tomorrow,
Simply hope
© Janet Martin
It seems these days if I need to know something
all I need to do is ask my kids...ah, sweet youth, the age of answers:)
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!