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Inheritance squandered and strewn, appearing to discard his
lessons of life,
He became a wandering fool, starting over again and again,
The destruction left in his wake, seemed to leave him nothing
but torment and strife,
But lessons learned along the way, secretly were stashed and
kept by him,
Now with greatest potential, finally he commits to redemption,
Believing it essential, to share the knowledge of what he has
learned,
Our hapless fool now sets out, to design a most worthy
commission,
Which would finally allow, him to teach these lessons he has
discerned,
But now he knows he has gone, long past his last December,
He’s seen far beyond, what any man should ever see,
Now he knows much more, than he cares to remember,
For this life-long tour, defined who he has come to be,
He is a transient soul, never wary or vigilant,
Yet ever watchful he grows… in the knowledge of his quest,
But now is history, and the future is eminent,
Life’s still a mystery, and he didn’t try his best,
Where are his straws to grasp, and firm ground to stand upon,
Should he be called to task, for that which he should or
shouldn’t have done,
Where is the ambition, he should have had all along,
Just what was his mission, and would he have learned a different
song,
Answers can be all too easily found, once you have past your
last December,
But how can a sage’s logic be sound, as all of life’s lessons
slowly fade away,
And will he actually care, once there is much less to remember,
As he has less and less to share… ignorance is bliss and this is
where he will stay.
So where does a December go, should you forget Spring, Summer
and Fall,
The stark cold winds begin to blow, hope is all but gone and
prayers are hard,
Might grace be found and faith rewarded, once there is nothing
you can recall,
Life’s passions no longer recorded, life’s last cruel and hard
lesson plays its card,
By keeping all doors open, he appeared the accidental sage,
Holding the keys to wisdom, but the door opened a touch too
late,
For all he can remember, these lessons far too precious to
trade,
Now past his last December, sadly we watch his redemption fade…
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Poetic License Suspended
- by My Gull Wheels On
A string of poetic tales, about my life, my love
and, my Lord...
Observations in scales, of mortal plight, once
we chance, accord...
Imagination pales, and yet just might, share a
glance, of more...
Propping powerful sails, from my short life,
happenstance, galore!
Buy the book...
Click Here
Get it on Kindle...
Click Here
Poetry Book on CD -
Click Here
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- My
Gull Wheels On
a.k.a.
Michael Wilson |
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