NO TIME
by John T. Baker
I hope it's not in Summer
When comes my call to go,
For Summer's when I garden
And help the flowers grow.

I cannot go in Autumn
When color’s on display;
It's much too nice in Autumn ---
No time to be away.

And surely not in Springtime
With all the fresh young blooms;
Dear Lord, You would not want me
To miss those sweet perfumes.

And that leaves only Winter,
When the grandkids come to ski,
So that  would not be very
Convenient, Lord, for me.

It seems that there is really
No time that's opportune . . .
I know it's YOUR decision . . .
Just not, good Lord, too soon!