A days a day a days a day,

until it has come and gone.

Some are cheerful, some are gray,

But none are very long.


Every morn I look to see,

if a day has come again,

Every morn she waits for me

with a laugh and glorious grin.


I say “Hello” and wait to hear,

if she will play along.

A moment past and then from near

a Robin sings her song.


And I wonder if today will be

like yesterday was or what may,

or will it be like another day,

when my heart did joyously play…


Play, play, play all day,

for she will never come again..

Tomorrow her sister or brother will play,

But it will never be the same.



© 2014 John Allen Richter

About johnallenrichter

I am an aspiring Poet and adorer of life, a conqueror of nothing. However I am a champion curator of truth and friendship and hold both of those things most dearly to my heart. Welcome to my mind's eye. I hope you will enjoy what you may find and please know that you have a friend here. View all posts by johnallenrichter

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