Time, He's a Thief

Time, he’s a thief, you’ve heard it before

And if I had my way, we’d never see him more.

He steals the hours of each precious day

And makes moments fly that we wish would stay.

He steals the seasons before we’ve a chance

To enjoy the revelry of Spring’s sprightly dance,

Or Summer’s solstice, or Fall’s many hues,

He even steals Winter’s melancholy blues.

He absconds with our years with no thought of pity,

And laughs as we age; it isn’t very pretty.

And when we pass through this mortal vale

It’s certain that he won’t cry, moan, or wail.

So to protect us from this heartless thief,

To protect our joys from the throes of grief

I’m giving to you a sensitive instrument

So you can see how Time’s time is spent.

Then, knowing his movements and his ways

We’ll take Time’s time and lengthen our days.

Then we’ll celebrate our love supernal

Knowing that our love will be eternal.

February 1992