Time tries to beat the hungry spender, <br />watching stars light distant skies. <br />Moments lost engrossed in splendour. <br />flies before our very eyes. <br /> <br />We clutter heavens with forms of praise, <br />the faithful send prayers up above. <br />While Nature works in many ways <br />that scream aloud her need for love. <br /> <br />My soul belongs to mother earth. <br />My God lives in the heart of all. <br />His presence felt since time of birth <br />as far back as I can recall. <br /> <br />He does not preach instruct, condemn, <br />reward the good or punish sin. <br />But weights the mind of wicked men <br />to make shame crawl within their skin. <br /> <br />My God will gift me each tomorrow, <br />sharing need with each embrace. <br />Bathe and ease all trace of sorrow <br />Let tears run freely down my face. <br /> <br />My worth is less sands smallest grain, <br />my death will not corrupt life’s flow. <br />Rebirth will beckon once again. <br />my world around and round will go. <br /> <br />The end will float one weary soul, <br />to twirl and linger on a breeze. <br />To ride on earths clean breath of air. <br />and whisper stories to the trees. <br /> <br />Time tries to beat a hungry spender, <br />so engrossed in Natures splendour. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />Roan. March 2008<br /><br />Ann Beard<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/times-hungry-spender/
