Be Content
© By Grady L. Duncan 
2/11/03

When the Winter winds blow,
and the skies turn gray,
our minds look forward,
to a warm Spring day.
Then when Spring arrives,
we think it's still too cold,
'cus we want to go swimming,
in the old swimming hole.

Summer is finally here,
and it's hot and dry,
We beg for the Fall,
lest we wither and die.
Then Fall finally comes,
with its changing scene,
all the trees grow bare,
and no longer are green.

Then days turn cloudy,
and the cool breezes blow,
children anxiously wait,
for the Winter's first snow.
The cycle is complete.
Another year is spent,
and we stand amazed,
at how fast it went.

Seasons come, seasons go,
and we always look ahead,
rushing toward the end,
that we all face and dread.
So, At the end of each day,
when I lie down to rest,
May I be able to say,
"Lord, I did my best."

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