Hands of Time

If the hands of time were hands that I could hold,
I'd keep them warm, and in my hands, they'd not turn cold.
Hand in hand we'd choose, the moments that should last;
the lovely moments that should have no future and no past.
The summer from the top of a swing,
the comfort in the sound of a lullaby,
the innocense of leaves in the spring,
but, most of all, the moment when love first touched me
All the happy days would never learn to fly
until the hands of time would choose to wave "Good-bye"
       ~ Unknown