Tho crave
From birth
To grave,
For worth
Ye want save,
A place
Said earth,
Now must skirt
To suffer waste,
Tho be alert
Of mans tricks,
Ample so to burst
A planet at risk,
Not find accept
Failed mortals akin,
In state of gorged excess
Hides yet a desolate grim,
Obscuring a need for address
While mans memory grows thin,
As he begs for too long ignored access!
If perchance
Devil sleeps,
Long enough
Even for keeps,
With any luck
Ye may reach,
Beyond amok
Thus to breach,
A gist of awake
As in friendship,
Induces tolerate
Sets to farseeing,
Wants but decide
Hence in the doing,
Beyond an open bide
Yet a found friendship,
Ne’er best so described
Meant be a state of being!
There’s a catalpa tree,
A very short distance
From where gods be,
Unable to stay away
Rapt so by what I see,
As such beauty ways
On a summer breeze,
The while in full bloom
Will render one at ease,
Thus so we can assume
By its clustered flowers,
Trumpet shapes agreed
Tells of floral splendour,
Whose seeds life decreed
Lay in long pods slender,
Hanging where meant be
Till fate cultivates its need,
For the heart shape enders
Of those o’er gigantic leaves,
That be the life given beauty,
Ornamenting the catalpa tree!
I try delay sleep
For far too soon,
I am to lie neath
Earths assume,
A fated bequeath
Of inopportune,
Be river of Lethe
For gods out of tune,
In the ultimate dark
And eternal doom,
Are shadows of hell
Where Hades River,
Be enduring compel
As its waters deliver,
For dead souls to imbibe
Shan’t forget held, of lesser worth,
Said flawed gods wouldst abide
During man’s life while on this earth!
Poetry on a Canapé 