“ The Façade ” ~ of a smile ~

He wears a smile

Save no surprise,

If but the while

He means to hide,

His shaded guile

Woefully apprised,

In a conjured façade…

 

He has known wile

In angst of sorrow,

More than enough

To find not borrow,

He’d known tears

Gathered for years

Beyond subsides,

Rendered invasive

To the outer side,

Of harbouring mazes…

 

Thus the façade

Blurred in guises,

Holds few surprises

Be joy or sadness                                          

That smiles disguise,                                      

Alas but for appearance!

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“ Morrows ” ~ ever nearer ~

 

Should you doubt

Life’s fleeting pace,

I’ll set you right

On lifespan’s face,

The days that burn

With barely time

To see the night,

Or a full term

Of this life’s race,

Save ye borrow

Someone’s turn

Afore the morrow,

Less fate means play

A slice of mirth,

And chose instead

A bed of earth,

Be untimely stead

Tells best not dwell,

On wasteful notions

While ever nearer be,

Those waiting morrows!

 

 

 

“ Survival ” ~ no time for sorrow ~

 

The day of the hunt

Be the squeal of a seal,

Who’ll reach for a hand

Of a starved dying man,

With no choice to save

Or let live with a wave,

That another day gives

Either creature to live,

With no time for sorrow

Nor sealer to borrow,

Holds he must stride

To hunt many hides

Or shan’t morrow survive,

Nor halt downward slide

Of living the narrows,

For yesterday’s bread

And a roof overhead,

Man has no guarantee

From fated seal barrow,

Nor survival ahead

Tho finds his way back,

Before all freezes over

And frost has him dead!

                                                                ode to perished sealers,

                                                                of Newfoundland’s 1914

 

 

“ A Mind ” ~ on borrowed time ~

 

In an effort to be bold

I may’ve gone too far,

And now be on hold

In someone else’s mind,

Who barely seems alive,

Living on borrowed time…

 

There  I’m to abide

On this mind’s ride,

In a kind of hell

Where Belial waits

Smirk on his face,

Knowing my fate

Be meant replace,

A mind gone cold

With past due date,

Thus in my effort bold

I may be left a mind

Said on borrowed time!

 

“ Words I Borrowed ” ~ to touch your heart ~

 

Words I scribe

Meant not forget

The road I follow,

To flee the depths

There I be yet,

If not for words

Ago inspired,

So perceived

By worthy fellows,

Who fashioned so

Words I borrowed,

Made find inspire

To thus so weave,

Lines wouldst tell

Begs you believe,

Brought an end

To wasted sorrow,

On that fine morrow

Thru words I borrowed

To touch your heart!                                      

                                               ode to Cyrano de Bergerac

                                                        and for Marianne