The path I’ve yet to travel on
gets shorter day by day
And no more is it a cake-walk
as I trudge along it’s way;
So rest I must now frequently
since the years have had their say.

The paths of life haphazardly
are filled with gracious deeds
But often times so traveled past,
at unholy break-neck-speeds,
That upon the day of reckoning
the soul on not one feeds.

Ahead it is, I know somewhere,
that place where believers rest
Though left I’ve still some detours
I will in time, attain this quest
for never do I walk alone,
Since an Angel with I’m blessed!

Written Under My Pen Name
Dick Evans HoarMoaner@aol.com
Copyright  © aug 2003
All Rights Reserved