A summer's day or a winter's night,

All the same as a bird in flight.

Dreams come true or delayed again?

White as snow or driving rain.

Peace at heart as I look to look,

Floating by as we complete life's book.

Can we tell what's coming next?

If we could, would it be for the best?

Nonsense I now, but that's just the point,

Like a child playing in his favourite haunt.

A lost cry heard of a time gone by,

By reach alone we couldn't touch the sky.

A quiet evening's willow by the shed,

Slowly asking questions left unsaid.

We can but be what we're destined for,

Yet we keep searching for that bit more.

One more time the leaves will rustle,

Unto a heap yet move no muscle.

I thank you all each and everyone,

Thanks to you, there's never no sun.