Poet: Unknown
Time to me this truth hath taught,
'Tis a truth that's worth revealing:
More offend from want of thought
Than from want of feeling.
If advice we would convey.
There's a time we should convey it;
If we've but a word to say,
There's a time in which to say it.
Many a beauteous flower decays,
Though we tend it e'er so much;
Something secret on it preys,
Which no human aid can touch.
So in many a loving breast
Lies some canker-grief concealed,
That, if touched, is more oppressed,
Left unto itself is healed!
Oft, unknowingly, the tongue
Touches on a chord so aching
That a word or accent wrong
Pains the heart almost to breaking.
Many a tear of wounded pride,
Many a fault of human blindness,
Has been soothed or turned aside
By a quiet voice of kindness.
Time to me this truth hath taught,
'Tis a truth that's worth revealing:
More offend from want of thought
Than from want of feeling.
Poet: Unknown
Two or three minutes - two or three hours.
What do they mean in this life of ours?
Not very much if but counted as time.
But minutes of gold and hours sublime
If only we'll use them once in a while
To make someone happy - make someone smile.
A minute may dry a little lad's tears.
An hour sweep aside trouble of years;
Minutes of my time may bring to an end
Hopelessness somewhere, and bring me a friend.
Poet: C. A. Lynch
A day, a precious day, you hold in your hands,
A gift of time, slipping through the hourglass sands.
Today is no ordinary piece of eternity's art,
But a sacred exchange of existence, fresh and smart.
A single breath, counted tenderly in life's grand score,
For what you do today, this fleeting moment will restore.
With every step taken and choice embraced,
Surrender tomorrow but cherish today's embrace.
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Poems About Expectations
Poems On Life
Poet: C. A. Lynch
In the realm of swirling dreams, time slips away,
As procrastination dances, in a tempting sway.
It steals our moments, relentlessly it creeps,
Stealing chances and success we yearn to keep.
Beguiled by its allure, we lose sight of the goal,
Precious hours vanish, as regrets take their toll.
With earnest hearts unburdened, let us rise above,
For time is priceless; it's the greatest treasure trove.
Poet: Mrs. L. C. Whiton
There is a good time coming, boys;
And many a one has passed;
For each has had his own good time,
And will have to the last.
Then, do thy work, while lingers youth
With freshness on its brow,
Still mindful of life's greatest truth,
The best of times is now.
Poet: C. A. Lynch
Oh, let us consider the passage of time,
That binds us all in its rhythmic chime.
From ancient lands and tales long told,
To the depths of modernity, we behold.
The world evolves, with relentless grace,
Embracing change in every space.
Yet in this vast expanse of life's rhymes,
Continuity endures, for all times.
Time Quotes
Poet: C. A. Lynch
Time we all have the same amount
Use it wisely on what truly counts.
Twenty-four hours in a day
For you to use in your own way.
If not used wisely you will find
The hours tick by as the clock unwinds
The minutes pass quickly in each hour
And before you know it, your day is devoured.
Time - appreciate it each day
Because before you know it you'll be gray
Time passes quickly we don't realize
Don't wait for tomorrow for a thing to materialize.
Be inspired by these poems:
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Poet: William Wallace Whitelock
I've just learned how to tell the time;
My mother teached me to,
AnJ ef you think you'd like to learn,
I guess I might teach you.
At first, though, it's as hard as fun,
An' makes you twist an' turn,
An' mother says that they is folks,
Big folks, what never learn.
You stan' before the clock, jus' so,
An' start right at the top;
That's twelve o'clock, an' when you reach
The little hand, you stop;
Now, that's the hour, but you've got
To watch what you're about,
Because the hardest part's to come
To find the minutes out.
You go right back again, to where
You started from, an' see
How far the minute hand's away,
Like this - you Ye watching me? -
An' when you've found the minute hand,
You multiply by five,
An' then you've got the time of day,
As sure as you're alive.
They's folks, I know, what says that they
Don't have to count that way.
That they can tell by jus' a glance
At any time of day;
But I don't believe no fibs like that,
Because if that was true,
My ma would know it, but she showed
Me like I'm showing you.
Poet: John Kendrick Bangs
Now don't go pushing Time too fast!
Why should you wish your days to hum?
You'll find youth all too soon has passed,
And hoary-headed age hath come.
Let days run slow as e'er they please,
And thank your stars they linger on.
Who lives too quickly seldom sees
Their sweetness till, alas, they're gone!
