Father Time
October 20, 2025
No Comments
I wanted to write and be good and fast, To finish a story that forever would last. I researched and typed with ambition and flair,
I wanted to write and be good and fast, To finish a story that forever would last. I researched and typed with ambition and flair,
I once met a writer with ink on her hands, Who dreamed of big books and faraway lands. She scribbled and typed through the dark
Some folks work for the cash and the pay. They wait for the weekend and dream of the day. Working for the boss or the
I once heard a tale that was told to me twice, Of a treasure that sparkled and shimmered so nice. But no map was given,
When I was a kid, and I did something right, I grinned ear-to-ear in the warm morning light. A pat on the back or a
Starving for comfort in the midst of my great pain, I searched, with nothing to lose and everything to gain. I tried all the gadgets
I wanted to write, but I didn’t know what to do. My brain turned to jelly. My courage was through. “What if,” I whispered, “my
I once had a feeling, a tingle, a spark, That all would go well on my pathway so dark. But feelings, I learned, can be
God gives us all gifts—some big and some small, But not just for sitting or showing off at all. They’re tools for his Kingdom, not
There once was a writer who wanted a lot— A book on the shelf and a deal that was hot. A following big and a
I thought I needed a truck and a boat, A shiny gold watch, and a tailor-made coat. But then I turned to listen and heard
“New and improved,” advertisers declared, And people bought it because so many cared. For fifty odd years, it was clever and slick, A magical phrase