Fortitude Ye Old Hero
I eat upon a creaky table
and think in quiet realms,
sleep I will on some luminous cloud,
wonder where the seam of my labors
stitched what I have found;
I oft muse aloud the folly of the world,
yet dismiss the blemish of my brow,
the sin remains.....
The drear of the mystery is an old enemy
when death comes round;
I will try to smile then,
when he knocks with thunderclap,
make not fortitude a stranger,
perch life on its ruby throne;
As compared to my Creator ----
I am but a wee thing,
a wisp of smoke.....
a wave at its end come tide,
an echo in the breach of time;
The little rain-drops my eye does weep,
and sleep in moody seas,
I bleed a greater good,
if justice should have me;
to live a little longer.....
with wherewithal and ponder,
Drink thy Immortal Elixir ----
to feel love's strong arms
and bathe in its allure;
Not ails and old age ----
where strength of youth does fade,
but the sweet of aged wines ----
some wise child wild with first rays of life,
Yet, alas ----
will I try?
Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2015
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