ThoughtsA Poem by Tate Morgan
We look back to our childhood years the comfort of old friends For all must see, forever we fear how this life must end
From time to time I wonder thoughts
that dream of what might be
I wander glade, stroll promenade
make sense of all I see
Valleys, rivers, majestic woods
of these, playgrounds are made
Where my clan played kick the can
and man was measured, weighed
We look back to
our childhood years
the comfort of old friends
For most must see, forever we
fear how this life must end
That promise of a wondrous place
where we forever play
Bestows the thought it may be bought
through faith if we don't stray
What waits there for us, up above
that we do not have here
Man's strength comes not from his life's length
but stems from love not fear
© 2013 Tate Morgan
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