Dream's Houri Land Seems Hour Island
Goals, when perspective's sought by souls, then scanned,
drum rolls show dumb roles, no red carpet rolled.
Story - youth to hoary - soon is told,
breath bold, brash, old, rash, Death strikes out of hand,
just blows away. Just blow falls none withstand.
Some seek redemption, reasons why warm cold
returns as candle burns to t[r]ick wick'd fold.
Dream's houri land seems [h]our island, time's sand
tips scales no wails redeem nor understand.
Alike for sage, saint, sot, faint-hearted, scold,
for true want, truant wanting more than mould,
life's cycle turns, returning not, hope banned.
Speed shadow shapes we hither, thither, cast
reflections that, scarce heeded, never last.
Author notes
Words in brackets convey two or more meanings
Hour island: [h]our our or hour or our hour is eye I land
t[r]ick wick'd: tick or trick wick, tricky wicket, wicked etc.
for previous version entitled In Hour I land see written 4 December 2007 see below
In Hour I land
Ambitions, true perspective found, are canned.
Drum rol, role dumb, with no red carpet rolled.
Story - youth to hoary - soon is told,
bold, brash, old, rash, breath Death can't out of hand,
just blow away. Just blow falls none withstand.
Some seek redemption, reasons why warm cold
returns as candle burns to t[r]ick wick fold.
in houri land, in hour I land, drip sand
tips scales no wails redeem nor understand.
Alike for sage, and saint, faint-hearted, scold,
for true want, truant wanting more than mould,
the cycle turns, returning not, hope fanned.
As shadow shapes we hither, thither, cast
reflections that, unheeded, never last.
written 4 December 2007 see below
poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
