All lovely things will have an ending,
All lovely things will fade and die,
And youth, that's now so bravely spending,
Will beg a penny by and by.

Fine ladies soon are all forgotten,
And goldenrod is dust when dead,
The sweetest flesh and flowers are rotten
And cobwebs tent the brightest head.

Come back, true love! Sweet youth, return!-
But time goes on, and will, unheeding,
Though hands will reach, and eyes will yearn,
And the wild days set true hearts bleeding.

Come back, true love! Sweet youth, remain!-
But goldenrod and daisies wither,
And over them blows autumn rain,
They pass, they pass, and know not whither.

Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.

Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved,--
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.

For it was in my heart you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,--
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.

Maybe there will come a day
Where children can just laugh and play
A day where hatred fades away
But that day is not today

Maybe there will come a time
With mutual love and lack of crime
Without war over nickels and dimes
But we are not yet in that time

Maybe there will be a place
Where smiles are on every face
And our lives won't be such a waste
But I doubt that you've found that place

Maybe we can forge a better Earth
Where money and objects have no worth
A world where birth is not a curse
But we have not yet formed that Earth

Maybe we can truly be
Home of the brave and land of the free
But that is a future I can't foresee
It only exists idealistically

Like a mental illness in your brain
The coming days will bring only pain
But this is life, we cannot complain
And maybe one day things will change

I
Am
A
Prayer
And
You
Are
The
Amen

to believe in the power of love
loves power to change everything

A dawn dollop of sunshine along the amber hay borderline
A teeny dapple of raindrops on mushroom tops
A dimple thanks to a young smile
Pine forest , first sketched in black pencil ,
colored in rainbow stencil , glazed
in morning tinsel , so long to Old Man
Drizzle* ...