“ Pushing Morrows ” ~ he might’ve tasted ~

In child’s hurry

For tomorrow,

He’s made blind

To the measure

He might’ve tasted

Of day’s treasure…


All those morrows

Now at sea,                   

A long thin boy

That once was me,

Alas will never see!

“ Man In A Hurry ” ~ is doing us in ~


Will we hence find,

Else ne’er know

To tell ‘tis time,

We’ve need to slow

Man in a hurry,

Or soon be thence

When far too late

To tame this state…


Yet should one hold

Clocks be set bold,

To fix the pulse

A slower rate,

For all to move

At homologous pace,

Mightn’t we discover

One another,

Thus man in a hurry

In a tranquil place,

To finally face

He is doing us in,

With reckless haste!