I walk through towering pines, Hearing whispering wind blow, Music so soft and fine, Generating a grand symphonic show. Never stop whispering to the ear. Blow soft don't squall. Just keep blowing near, Bringing joy to all. In the Spring of life, The freshness of youth is new.
Love never becomes trite.
Too much excitement to be blue. In the Summer of life, Marriage settles in. Children fuss and fight. Parents learn to bend. In the Fall of life, Balding begins and hair turns gray.