Wistful was his mood now
Their time to leave came round
The visit had relieved all fears
The childrens' cold faces
Shone in the moon's bright light
And the stars twinkled in their eyes
The old farmer's daughter
Brought them up to visit
The dark night now hiding his tears
His voice as harsh as gravel
Did speak of love and things
Before they then said their goodbyes
She leaned against him then
Touching his gnarled old hands
The children he'd not seen for years
Jess said they'd come again
He so hoped that was true
But the farmer knew how time flies
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He so hoped that was true
ReplyDeleteBut the farmer knew how time flies
Human nature would dictate frequency of visits will taper off as time goes by.
Hank
There are both joy and sadness in this poem. I am hoping that the joy outweighs the sadness, if even by a mere breath. But there's no way to tell, because time is flying...
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