The mill begins to mellow;
The mechanics have began to wither,
The squeaks reminds me of a clock's chime.
Time reads slow.
Memory's a distant sharp.
Instinctive reflexes are surely degrading.
The outlook seems deceiving.
Eyes need corrective convex.
I see the horizon waning.
Susurrations are almost a haunting whisper.
Just a little more to give, I'd pray.
Blue skies and serenading rain;
But not often an evening rainbow,
Often reminding of my shallow low.
DOUBLE DIGIT TODAY.
God Bless.
No comments:
Post a Comment
You may leave your comments but do stay impartial and pose better judgement. Thanks.