SPRING

I watched a Rolls go gliding by
Beneath the greening trees,
I could not help but breath a sigh
in envy of such ease.

How sleek and smooth her coachwork shone;
She whispered as she went:
She had a sphinx to guide her on,
Wherever she was sent.

I looked within and thought to find
A man to comfort grown;
I saw a man to comfort blind
Using a dictaphone!

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The golden trees,the bursting spring,
The daisies in the grass;
The roses, and the birds that sing,
How quickly all must pass.

The rich, the poor, my love and I,
The time we spend in words!
I wonder, is our passing by
Of moment to the birds ?

JMT 1947