I sought living
Years the more,
Of them the sum
Secures encore,
For score or two
Not ne’er enough,
A pardon due
Leads me to plead,
Not waive the stuff
Of years one lived,
Chance be my best
Of time life gives,
When soon to rest
Hold years ahead,
Not played as test
For idling dead,
When all ‘tis left
Means but to pass
Expressly fast,
Begs added score
To get it right
Before the dark,
Be my eternal night!
If you should look
Beneath the surface,
You’ll see likeness
Didst hardly fade,
Despite time past
Held so its shade,
Though failed spare
Held masquerade,
Altering whole
The sum’s façade,
While signs of ware,
Offers but a shadow
Of my enduring soul!
It be but flesh
And bone
This body
I have owned,
Since abandoning
The womb,
But until now
The sum of me
Was but life form,
In a world not flown…
As time gave shape
To fasten so within
Contours of my fate,
Wisdom took its place
Apposite to its state,
To have mind thrive
Should I by then survive
And so to cast about,
Tho if to grow alone
Would then want rest,
With not a heart of stone
Within my aging bones,
Alas with but the sum of me!
Poetry on a canapé 