Life is touched by exquisite moments
When sadness is made to flee
They're tucked away for sacred times
When Grace demands a spree
These are the moments which come with the light
The sweet laughter which follows the night
These are the moments which trail Summer's drought
When all becomes once again right
P. Davis
I went marching in the ranks of men
And my Dad was up ahead
And just a little further up
Was my Grandpa's hoary head
So every day we moved along
Forward in our ranks
Sharing life, joy and strife
We gloried in our threesome strength
But then the old man left our ranks
No longer up ahead
So Dad moved up to take his place
And I moved up to Dad's
And then one day as we marched along
Dad was also gone
And I moved up to be in front
I felt so much alone
Until I looked behind my rank
And I made a wondrous find
It was my own son - one row back
And his son just behind
P. Davis
