Passages
By R. P.  "Bob" Lee

Dedicated to those classmates and fellow alumni
who have passed on to a distant shore.....

There is a place that I know so well
Where waters converge in a gentle swell
There stand two great moss covered oaks
That mark the spot of our youth and hopes

O it was ever so lovely there
Neath the canopied greenery fare
Where many a childhood game was played
Lessons were learned and friendships made

The bayou flows on to the distant seas
As the years pass by it goes steadily
We stand witness to it's ebb and flow
Knowing that we too soon will go

The flowers that grow by the bayou side
Oft drop their petals in the flowing tide
And as they swirl and ripple away
We bid adieu to their passage each day

So as the wind rushes through the trees
The bayou flows to the distant seas
And as the petals float on their way
Childish things are soon put away

These are the passages of our days
Those things we knew in so many ways
Are soon departed in a solemn hour
To be replaced by other flowers

The passages of time are marked in many ways
Some count the hours, some the days
Spring turns to Summer and then to Fall
Followed by Winter - four seasons - passages all

Someday when the skies are so blue
It will be our time to bid adieu
And join those who've gone before
To have a reunion on that distant shore

Our voices will then be added to the gentle breeze
That makes it's way to those great oak trees
And when the grey moss and the green leaves sway
You will know that our hopes are fulfilled this day.
 

For The Class of 1966 of T.H.S.

By R. P.  "Bob" Lee                                                         

When the leaves grow green

And we pause for a while

We can hear a refrain

That will cause us to smile.

For memories are eternal

They are carried on the wind

And their soft hanging whisper

Can be heard in the Spring.

Many Summers have passed

When the leaves have turned brown

As we strode through the seasons

Going up and then down.

As we all journey onward

From that idyllic Spring

Our thoughts of those days

Only come now and then.

And we met once more

To remember the spring

When the leaves were green

And we yearned to sing.

Now as we prepare

To meet once more

The clarion call

Will not reach one shore.

So to the memories

Of those who've gone on

We lift up our glass

And sing the old songs.

But if you listen closely

To the soft blowing wind

You will hear their memories

Of that long ago Spring.

So pause now, mes amis

To recall for a while

Their bright glowing spirits

And their soft friendly smile.

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