“ On The Run ” ~ to find a stead ~

 

On the run

From place

To place,

I search ahead

For space

Might be akin,

To the images

That populate

My spent head,

With a life spin

Of purpose clear,

For I’ve but left

A meagre stay,

And far too near

Be Reaper Grim

To dog my way,

Hence I hold run

To find a stead

Of lesser haste,

Afore fate ends

This journey’s race!

 

“ On The Shelf ” ~ a place of rest ~

 

I feel a book

Less than a tome,

Where I abide

Held be my home,                                                               

There on a shelf

I am to dwell,

Alphabetized

In a near hell,

Tucked in a space

For easy trace,

If one’s to find

My aging face,

That I myself

Find hard to place,

As time has stolen

Most recall,

I must rely

On passers-by

To so point out,

‘Tis I so perched

Now on the shelf,

Held thus too soon

Suffer a place of rest!