One day you turn around, and it's summer
Next day you turn around, and it's fall
And the springs and the winters of a lifetime
Whatever happened to them all
As a man, who has always had the wandering ways
now I'm reaching back for yesterday
'til a long forgotten love appears
And I find that I'm sighing softly as I near
September, the warm September of my years
As a man, who has never paused at wishing wells
Now I'm watching children's carousels
And their laughter's music to my ears
And I find, that I'm smiling gently as I near
September, the warm September of my years
- the golden warm September of my years
A compendium of images - most original, some not - words, and links, sometimes musical, gathered for the exclusive enjoyment of friends and relatives, some old, and some new.
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