When it be time,
I was to find
To reach a place
Alleged babyhood,
Held gentle space
Said pre childhood,
Where puerile stood
To enter meant hood,
Hence soon to face,
Adulthood first embrace …
Alas these hoods end
For an ensuing bend,
Means take effect,
Be wise elder hood,
Where chance detects
Hoped sprightly mind,
Whose wit allows time
Bear last hood’s oblige,
Thus meant organize
For predictable slide,
To that grave final hood!
I wanted to know
All I ought sow
Witless I could,
Said thus to grow
As I hence would,
Mentally held so
From a first step,
To fractured words
Not yet understood,
In retrospect
Held become clear,
Though I await
The while I fear,
Awaited wisdom
Trusted appear,
Vacates my recall
From coveted keep,
Be prized most of all…
Alas where to go
From so long ago,
Attempt find whom
Had gotten to know,
Or who might tell
Not long yet gone,
Tho likely in hell
As I may as well,
Try wanting to know,
Now all that I should!
Poetry on a canapé 