“ Brothers ” – for but a time –

Be fortunes lost,

And later read

Of human cost,

Be of men dead

By fortunes lost,

Near nation wide

While few survived

Those who did cried,

Brother please

Can you spare a dime,

Was prelude to the times…

While not my bide

Yet fore I’m dead,

Be my expired hide

That you have read,

Might you not now

Allow some doubt,

On  held debate,

To spare the while alive

Afore we be deaths bate,

Just  but a time,

To be a brother mine!

                                                         ode to a lost brother

An old but timeless story, from biblical to ongoing times,

alas of generic proportion…

                                                             © Jean-Jacques Fournier

“ 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

Did too soon understand

A day there’ll be no other,

For life assured ill stands

Save to reach life closure,

Tho not too long the while

Measures a 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!