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Tomorrow Never Comes
Tomorrow Never Comes Through the early morning haze and over the mountain tops the sun sends itís brilliant rays, reflecting off the autumn leaves of the golden aspen trees. Into the valley far below, the cool morning air flows as the sun seems to grow and grow. Ohí how lucky were are, a new days has once again dawned our way. An eagle gracefully glides high in the clear, blue morning sky. The handwriting of God is abundant in his mountains so high. Life is so precious, I think Iíll wait until tomorrow to wave goodbye.
This poem was inspired by the beautiful Colorado mountains, where I once lived for fifteen years.
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