The Sentry

Immortal is the man,

when life is flying by.

Stops to note the passing time

and watch through wearied eye.

Solemny he sketches

lifes every twist and turn.

He stands a reverent sentry

at every eve and morn.

Poet some may call him,

while others scoff and say:

He's nothing but a dreamer

whose dreams will fade away

Yet they will come to know

that those who dream at night

can see the world more clearly.

And that is why I write