‘Tis the fall of life upon me—my grass is burnish brown,
the song of sparrow, lark, and bunting heard no more.
Now the hoar frost of Autumn has begun to grace the crown,
and the storms of life brush ‘gainst my flimsy door.

The leaves of life are colored—they now are tumbling down—
a film of frost upon my windows now I see;
blooms of summer soon to varnish—they no longer can be found,
and leave me dreaming of those days that used to be.

It seems my time I’m spend in the old rocking chair,
on a quiet porch sitting in the sun.
If yonder clouds should gather, and weather isn’t fair,
then by a cozy fireside this daily race is run.

But, I find time to ponder the grace my God did shed,
for from sin’s penalty He has set me free;
It was a wondrous pardon, and the seal is crimson red,
for Jesus paid my debt upon the cross, you see.

George Metrokas
©2003