Three Wise Men Poem by Matthias Pantaleon

And they sit on the floor of the shore
The wind tosses soft tides towards them
Some have their legs buried beneath waters
Ankles deep, they smile at everything

Reminiscing of their youthful days
They have been terrific as country boys
Fortune and necessities took them away
While there, they grow old with time

Now, age have brought them home
Home is where you return to at will
And they accept you without grumbling
Time steals all that we have except home

So they sit, quietly, each lost in his thought
And the wind makes fuss of their white hairs