Gather Love’s Petals - Parody Robert Herrick – To The Virgins, To Make Much Of Time And Other Parodies Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Gather Love’s petals while you may,
old Time locks box, mocks sighing,
blush bloom of youth so lush today
soon sees rush hushed, croon dying.

Life’s almost done before begun,
there’s little sense in letting
Time fly, for fast the setting sun
lets out last room, forgetting.

You once would pay prompt to the day
the rent when you were letting,
and all will say, ‘ah, lack-a-day! ’ –
tomb’s prospect’s still upsetting.

So shed false mask, take book and flask,
a partner most becoming,
bread ‘neath the bough, nought else now ask,
as Death sucks breath, brain numbing.

True love forecast must never bask
on laurels – distant drumming
takes waste to task, haste to the task,
seek joy, don’t toy, go slumming!

Red rose in bloom bedecks the tomb
of love lost, cost uncounted,
grey shadows loom so don't assume
winged options once dismounted.

Ride not far and wide, pride set aside,
trust basic instincts inner,
much more beside wealth counts, two tied
by trust's win/win begin a
relationship unknown to whip,
to rip-tide which submerges
what lip to lip can offer hip
to hip's united urges.

That age is best when Youth has done
with superficial fretting,
right choice attested, others shun,
sage bats beat restless netting...

Decisions take, no past mistake
should hinder joy awaking,
so joy's hopes slake in passion's lake
let walls fall, towers quaking.

Gather ye rosebuds all who will,
and yet, though Time’s a-flying,
in one fair head, eternal still,
Life thrives, Death’s grin denying.

The glorious lamp of Heaven, the Sun,
as higher he is getting,
if e’er his praises were begun -
laws seasonal forgetting -
go[l]d head embarrassed would be hung -
some modesty’s essential -
vain beauty pains, gains cobwebs st[r]ung
like pearls inconsequential.

Life praises who free love and woo
where two true fit, pale phantom
none envy through tomorrow's dew -
Life’s summons flows to summum!

Garner Love’s petals while you play,
old Time locks box, mocks sighing,
youth's lush bloom blush scents rush today
wilts, sense sent spilt-milk crying.

19 August 2009