I always get home before dark;
Before the evening primroses open
And the evening star is seen in the western sky.
Why oh why
Do I get home before dark?
First, I only do it out of habit
And second, I do not work evenings
But retire early.
I go to bed early –
It is just my daily routine
But I cannot get to sleep
Without a stocktaking of changes
In the course of my long, long life.
I think of the past
Of my childhood days
Of my children
Of my lifelong dream to be a poet.
I think of many things;
I hear myself think
But there is no logic to my thoughts.
I know I cannot take my money with me
When I go.
I enjoy the finer things in life
And cry for my finest hour
When I will be able to appeal
To the finer feelings of my fellow citizens
A Poem of Life.
I have taken this road
And have been walking along it
For the last six decades.
Where does this road go?
Road tax road sign road block
And how does my horse
Take the fences and bends?
Where do my personal problems figure
In the overall scheme of things?
I need to get some sleep.