AM I THE ONLY ONE. . . who occasionally writes just to reminisce?

When I first began writing, most of it was of a poetic nature.  I was hurting, and I expressed it by writing about it.  I wrote hundreds of poems, most of which were very personal to me, although they weren’t very good.  Many of them were never seen by anyone but me and have long since been discarded.

As time moved on, my poems did too.  They became more varied, and at least in my opinion, occasionally better.  Oh, I still wrote some trash, and most of them were very frivolous, but every now and then I’d come up with something that I wasn’t embarrassed to have other people see. 

After a fashion, I grew thicker skin and wasn’t so embarrassed to have people read my stuff, even though some of it still barely qualified as trash.  

Speaking of time moving on, I wrote about that too.  The poem that follows is one that I considered to be a ‘keeper.’ 

©R.L.King2014 – From the book Wanderin & Wonderin

Time is not the enemy, but it’s often not your friend,
although time is often cited as the cure, your heart to mend.

Time is very precious, but can’t be saved for a rainy day.
At times we’ve all had dreams, that time has stolen away.

Time is often generous with the wisdom it will share,
time can be our tutor, teaching us to care,

Time isn’t free, but it certainly can’t be bought,
you cannot put a price on the lessons time has taught.

Time creates opportunities, time can take them away,
time can be the culprit, or time can save the day.

Time is never stationary, time keeps moving on.
Time can never stay, it’s here and then it’s gone.

When our time is running out, it cuts us like a knife,
yet time is but a measure, used to quantify our life.

Time waits for no man, it just keeps moving along
time to mend your fences, time to sing your final song,



Gramps use’ta say
©R.L.King2012 #501

About: Speaking your mind

“Sometimes saying nothing
… says quite a lot.”

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