The years like leaves behind a bus

go swirling down the road of life.

Some flying high like little kites,

while others perish ‘neath the wheels.

 

And life’s years too can fly or fade.

Some fill the mind with gentle thoughts.

Others we push back consciously,

in hope that time will heal the wounds.

 

For years, like waves, can wash our minds,

of memories from long ago.

As rising tides that sweep the shore

of foot prints in the rippled sand.

 

We thought we had so many years

to do all those ambitious things;

that seemed so easy to achieve

when we were young and strong with life.

 

Year after year, with rising speed,

time flies through busy lives to say.

Waste not these minutes granted you,

for soon they pass, not to return.

 

 

David Garlick, Victoria, October, 1986