In whispered winds doth time’s swift chariot race,
With fleeting moments captured in its haste,
The sun doth rise and set, a constant chase,
As days and nights in endless spiral traced.

The leaves of yesteryears in autumn fall,
Their vibrant hues to brown and brittle turn,
Yet in the heart, sweet memories recall,
The love and laughter, for which souls do yearn.

Though time’s relentless march we cannot stay,
Nor halt its tide, nor slow its onward flow,
In sonnets penned, immortal words convey,
The beauty found in moments’ tender glow.

So let us cherish now, this fleeting hour,
And hold each second dear, with gentle hand,
For time, though swift, reveals its subtle power,
In every breath, a story’s grains of sand.