Passing Fancies

Passing fancys
never stay.
They just happen
then go away.
They're temporary
whims that flit.
A short entrancement
we permit
to come into our lives.

Passing fancies
attract the eye.
They linger a while.
Then they die.
When they come
you think they'll last
but pretty soon
they're in our past,
the past part of our lives.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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