“ My Septembers ” ~ for a time beguiled ~

It seems a long long while

Since my first September,

When I was but a child

With little to remember,

Would for a time beguile

What mind found render,

Bar be time on my hands

Allowed youth meander,

To later years September

Till too soon understands

A day there’ll be no other,

For life assured ill stands

Save to reach life closure,

Tho not a very long while

Measures the meagre stead,

From first steps to immobile

Held borders bland to dead,

Said be last of my Septembers!


“ Growing Up Later ” ~ beats sooner ~


Growing up later

Beats doing so sooner,

As older comes fast

When living in haste,

As venturesome past

May well deny taste,

On growing up late …


Growing up sooner

Exacts little light     

And thus I defer

To aging foresight…


Thence if but a day

For journey’s delay,                                                                           

I’ll suffer the loss,

At whatever cost

For all I can skewer,

Of growing up later!