Child's play degrades with age and makes its way on through the days, until its mark is cast away and in its place are aches and pains.

In memory's love it makes its stay before the times of old and grey, and gives its best of laughter joyous to see you off on life's great voyage.

A time for you to see the sights marked by many empty nights, filled with wonder for the day of what to do in golden rays.

For the sun leaves too and in its passing leaves the moon which wanes and waxes, to say to you in crescent fashion a month has past in life's contraption.

As time does fade in passing days and leaves behind with little trace, the things you knew were true in spades to see them easily replaced.