You know when I was about eight or nine
A year seemed to last forever
But now I'm the ripe old age of seventy eight
I can hear the devil knocking on my gate
Christmas has gone and Easters nearly here
And in a flash it will be the end of another year
Where did they go those rolling months?
When seventy years ago they lasted forever
Long hot summer days seemed like the norm
Hardly a cloud and rarely a storm
Oh for those long lost childhood days
The innocence in our childish games
But now I'm just a grumpy old sod
Sat in the woods on a half rotten log just writing
About how a month flashes by in a day
And at this juncture I have no more to say
Until tomorrow

J F COLE SIMPLY SIMPLE POETRY