My Time
Not my time to see the snow,
nor, for me to row;
wasn't the time to feel the blow,
it just wasn't --- my time to go.
Who placed best in show,
not me, I'd never know;
faced the devil, a fearsome foe,
but this time wasn't --- mine to go.
Found a friend, called me Shiloh,
seeds of peace I had to sow;
like a whirlwind, I could not blow,
wondered --- is this my time to go?
Winter wheat waves so-n-so,
during harvest the farmers mow;
away with the wind the chaff gets thrown,
like the chaff --- it’s my time to go.
© 2004 Randolph D. Brown, Jr.
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