The sands of time consume my feet
In gritty piles silent, discreet
The speed of light is on its way
Its hours burn both night and day.
There is no vigil I must keep
It matters nought how long I sleep
For time does know its boundaries
It comes and goes and perhaps flees.
The winds all blow in divers ways
Tis soon the last of all my days !
Claire V. Bogdanos 