Held be instant
On life’s clock,
Prods the infant
Time finds stalk,
Till soul senescent
Begs for distance,
That lessens load
Of aging baggage,
One need dispose
To bury ravage,
Excesses imposed
Of borne instants,
Living composed!
Poetry on a canapé
A journey through Jean-Jacques Fournier's poetry
Poetry on a canapé 
“Of aging baggage” says a lot. Very good, JJ. A few words but says so much.
Thank you Paulette. Saying the maximum with the minimum, is what the language of poetic influence affords. There are subjects that seem just right for this to happen, which the issue of an instant os obviously suggests.
Jean-Jacques
It really takes a talent, like yours, to get a message across in few words. I admire that.
Your kind words are near as gratifying and encouraging as your friendship, these past amounting years. Thank you for being there, and your continued interest!
Jean-Jacques