Black bodies make free
Orange rush of firework sea
Crisp grass crackles nightly

Daddy looks through watered eyes
On his son in the family cradle
He will cry even more
When his son can reach the door
But such is the passage of time

Grandmother's eyes
Warm and soft like lullabies
As they sing from a heart, ever dancing
Seasoned by tears now in her autumn years
Enjoying the passage of time

As a child in my room
Beneath blankets of gloom
All tucked in with a heart full of anger
A questioning tongue
Has no place for the young
I must wait for the passage of time

Time, it seems waits for no one
Easy go, easy come
And picks up the ones left behind
Still time finds her heroes
They smell every rose
Right up to the end of the line

A song holds a phrase
Like my life holds each day
Never one less beloved than the other
And with each hopeful line
Though I'm sure to lose the rhyme
It is found in the passage
In enjoying the passage
It is all in the passage
Of time.