Summer sands, dirty feet,
understanding feasibly.
A smile was the first to meet,
words came simply, easily.
Time is a friend, for finding new ways,
time is the book in which memories are made.
And time is a curse, for losing what's got,
time is the grave in which memories get lost.
Winter ice, frozen fingers,
words unspoken, thoughts in mime.
Eyes don't know where to look,
and years past are nothing but time.
Time is unchanging, consistent and true,
time is the sun, time is the moon.
And time is unreliable, moody, and blue,
time is my heart, beating too soon.
-J
