Jonathan ROBIN Poems

Thick wick, once bright, as night advances,
must lose life's fight as circumstances
combine to trick the tick of fate
as rates of change accelerate.
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When life from life with sigh or strife departs,
when threescore, more, or less, existence span
with verse and chapter closed before began,
dare logic there define our petty parts?
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Birthday
Play day
Sleigh day
May Day
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Sudden summer laughter wave lift-drifts. Lush vale
stirs startled, sweating afternoon. Echo's no avail,
for sounds are swiftly smothered, as if some spider’s veil
Present, Past, Hereafter, threads, cocooning mortal wail.
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MIstrust defences which outlast their use
RIde onwards, overcoming inner brake
AMounting to unjustified mistake,
MIndful there remains no real excuse.
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When Dido found Aeneas could not come,
She mourned in silence, Dido diddle dumb,
He sailed half-mast away demeanour glum,
demeaned, her mind inclined four fingers, thumb: -
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Forsaking superficiality
I’ll leap from sleep of forty years or more –
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Open instincts! Writ theme test who'll see?
Pressed, the mesh inset in style hides, shy.
Efforts knit span lines to link as I
Not on trite end, top levels mask text free.
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When from camp bed cramp limbs I raise,
I never hesitate to praise
Lord Luck, loud laud and by degrees
attain crescendo! Nor bent knees,
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Hard as the bed in the earth
where a stone has lain,
so rough, so tough, and so cold,
Winter’s stranglehold
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