Frost of Dawn

Frost of Dawn

If ever time was to be lost.
at dawns first break, with gentle frost.
That would be the time I choose,
if, my life, I was to lose.

For time of death is not foretold
but still I wish, while growing old,
that I at least would have a say,
in whether it was night or day.

Lying here in this soft bed
I do regret some things I’ve said,
and seeds that I will never sow,
and grand children I barely know.

There are few things that I wish for.
And if not this, then nothing more,
to see dawns break, and gentle frost,
and then with will, my time is lost.

As feeble breaths turn feeble sighs,
and a cloudy fog descends my eyes,
I see the gentle dawn’s first rays,
and the gentle frost on window panes.