Category: Poetry

The days rush by
With the jibber jabber of words said
And the hurly burly of things to be done
And the helter skelter of events
("Events, dear boy, events" was what he said)

The days anoint our lives
And mark the passing of Time
And the passing of friends
In the pursing of Time remaining

The dwindling of our days
Our lives, with each day erased
The passing of dazed souls
Meeting their final end

I try to catch the days
As they rush by:
The futility irks me
Even as Death lurks, erasing the days

And I try to catch the rays
Of sunlight as they fall at my feet
Each day, until the day
When Death will come to greet.