Poetry and Time


We’re oftenly told we’re too old to rhyme
That “oftenly’s” wrong ‘cause there’s not enough time
But if time’s running out, why don’t we go chasing?
If poetry’s old, then why aren’t we aging?
But good time’s an eternity spent in a day
And poems are not sayings, but what we now say
If we then take our time, then it is now ours
If we know what counts, we won’t count the hours
And if we know what to say, we won’t say what we know
We’ll speak of the wonders the world does not show
Then we will spend our lives on what they can’t buy
On poetry and time and a clear blue sky


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