I was walking through my garden
And I heard a gnome say pardon
Was that really you mr gnome
I asked. I waited a while and still he did not answer
It was probably just the kids next door
Not my lifeless garden gnome whom I adore
I continued walking and something charged at me
It knocked me over and I hit my head
I closed my eyes and awoke in my bed
"Thank God" I said it was only a dream
I got out of bed and heard a stream
I looked out my window and saw my gnome
He was waving at me and shouting hello
I went outside to to the stream he was fishing
And I joined him the whole time I was wishing
That this was a dream and I would wake up
That was ten years ago and still I am here
I sit with the gnome all day long
A new gnome in my garden that looks just like me.

I walked out into my garden
and noticed that my gnome had hardened
I heard a bird that could sing
and saw a bee with a terrible sting.
My flowers smelt so nice
then I slipped on a piece of ice
into the flower patch
I reached for something to catch
I caught a glimpse of a pretty swallow
dancing in a tree so hollow
I then fell down and hurt myself.
Then I woke up and bumped my shelf
I started rolling out of bed
so I went out to my garden shed
when I got there something charged at me
then I heard a bee say "Goodbye be free".

Everytime we age
its like turning a page
in your book of life
like cutting off a piece with a knife
until finally there is nothing more
nothing left for us to adore.
Its hard to think about the end
or if in twenty years you will still know your friends.
Well you will never know,
where is that place where we will all go,
whats in the darkness in my eyes,
I see nothing to my surprise.
We know what's in front not behind,
what's not at the back of my mind.
Its not death most fear,
but the unknown, why am I here,
it doesn't matter what you do,
whether you write poems or work at the zoo.
Everything must stop someday.
Like this poem they will say
The End...

Every time we age
Its like turning a page
A page that we can never turn back
A page that contained all the things we did that year
Even though we can no longer see that page
We can still remember some of the the things that were on it
But what happens when we get to that last page
And finish that book
Will we just fade away like an old memory
Or will we live on through the memories of others
Even if those memories can be painful
Life is a mysterious thing and its best not to ask questions
But let's do this one thing and
Remember each other.