Pater

I had so much to tell to you
A while ago away;
And, although our tidings few,
There seemed so much to say.
When you were old ~ whilst I was young,
I might have listened when
A weave of words, together strung,
Were tendered now and then.

But note! the hour has wandered late
And dulls the muse of mind;
Time and tide, for no man wait ~
Ago remains behind.
So, words unspoken, not to know,
Are words that time forgot,
They mattered to me then, ago
But now they matter not.