Winter Is Nearer, and Heaven Is Deare

Winter Is Nearer, and Heaven Is Dearer

Spring turned to summer, then summer to fall.

Years are passing quickly. I really don't recall
All the golden memories I thought I'd not forget.
Old age is surely creeping up, but I must not fret.

Time is so precious. It matters so much how
I decide to use it, for I'm getting older now.
Children, did you notice that I'm not so spry
As when I walked without a cane and jumped so high?

If I repeat things, pretend you didn't hear
The other times I said it; my memory's not so clear.
If I forget where I put my glasses, be patient please.
I'll find them again, though maybe not with ease.

When arthritis gets me down, and I complain a bit,
Forgive me if I rest a lot, and if I often sit.
Slowing down is not my choice, but one that I must take.
Some things I must give up, decisions hard to make.

If I ask you to repeat what you said to me,
Forgive me; my ears aren't what they used to be.
If I often nod and sleep when sitting down to rest,
Forgive me if it seems my manners aren't the best.

Winter of my life is near; my life has almost passed.
The grave's nearer; Heaven's dearer; time is flying fast.
I want my life to count for God; I'll do what I can do
To please Jesus here below, and to Him I'll stand true.