I knew that time was precious and fleeting.
I felt it in my soul as my heart was quickly beating.
Who better to turn the hands of time?
It begins with the very first nursery rhyme.
I can tick and talk, then suddenly it’s just too painful to walk.
So I dance and dive and be creative.
I look outside the shadow box and live.
Too many bowling pins are spinning in my head.
Thoughts become elusive once I’ve gone to bed.
Memories of old clash with all that is new.
What I did yesterday; I no longer have a clue.
Take in stride these words I provide.
A promise won’t be kept if you run and hide.
Sure it’s just a melting pot; a miniature mess of all I forgot.
Fleeting Time in a Melting Pot
DO YOU HAVE THE "WRITE" STUFF? If you’re ready to share your wisdom of experience, we’re ready to share it with our massive global audience – by giving you the opportunity to become a published Contributor on our award-winning Site with (your own byline). And who knows? – it may be your first step in discovering your “hidden Hemmingway”. LEARN MORE HERE
Thank you Eva. It’s not a fun subject to live with. My new Doctor is amazing; he listens and takes me seriously. Hopefully I’ll get better with time.
Great poem that speaks to me about growing old and our memory. I’m hoping that by keeping my brain active I won’t get so forgetful.