By George Piggott
Time to work, Time to relax, to sort out life’s problems,
the truth and the facts.
Time to be happy, time to be sad,
some days are good, others are bad.
Planes leaving airports, ships leaving docks,
most of the time, we are watching the clocks.
Time is essential, without it we’re lost.
When production takes longer, up goes the cost.
Time for expression, laughter and play,
shared with the children, all times of the day.
Time for the aged, the sick and the poor,
many are lonely, especially in war.
Time is treasure, precious to all,
tomorrow unknown what will befall.
Enjoy the moment of each passing hour,
the dance of the butterfly, the scent of the flower.
The turmoil of life will go on for mankind
unaware of the truth. Time is an illusion,
an invention of mind.