- MY QUIET TIME-  
I stand here in my memory 
Looking from atop a hill, 
Down into a valley 
To the sound of Whip-O-Will. 
I hear the stream a bubble 
As it rushes 'cross the rock. 
I see the trees all clad in green, 
As though a summer frock. 
There is a silence in the air 
As the day begins to wane 
And I walk lazily through the dusk 
Along my winding lane. 
I travel on in setting sun 
To a lake hidden from all view 
And there in silent wistful prayer 
My feelings do renew. 
A small fire on the levee 
Will signal kids and spouse 
That I'm OK and soon will be 
Returning to the house. 
But here I have my quiet time 
To just spend here with You 
And be refreshed for tomorrow 
So I can do things I have to do. 
Author: Carolyn Ford Witt 
Ms. Caroline
©5-18-2006                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    