Jonathan ROBIN

Rookie - 211 Points (22 September / London)

Polyacrostic Palimpsest - Ses Mots Sont Ici Ii - Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Notes on Polyacrostic Palimpsests


Acrostic: Verse in which certain letters form a word or message
Polyacrostic: Several acrostics within the same composition
Acrostics to be found below
Ses mots sont ici [vertical acrostic from 1st Line S of has] [French – his/her words are here]
Susan Sellers SS [1 vertical external and 2 diagonal bottom up acrostics keyed as above to the 1st line S of has]

Palimpsest:
A manuscript on which more than one text is written with
earlier writing, or one level of meaning, partially visible.




Ses Mots Sont Ici II


Sweet friend has Time Time conquered in your heart,
used no successes’ superficial glow
somehow as jest so settle life as though
all fades, - a dream's drawn ready to depart?
Not in the years of age should these thoughts start!
So often sleep steals laughter, ends Time’s flow,
expels old love, sends slight grace, - then we go.
life dies away as cold evenings chart
Life is a song whose chorus sings: Depart!
Even now cause and effect knock, so
reward each instant, Time shan't wait, you know.
So seek within, till safe your soul, then part.
Surrender true choice not, return trust's song
Sure to evolve, find Way, may soul stay strong...

16 May 2005 revised 6 January 2007
robi3_1254_robi3_0000 BQS_DZX

for alternative version see



Susan Sellers


Sweet friend has Time Time conquered in your heart.
Used no successes’ superficial glow
Somehow as jest so swift adopted though
A glued remora’s maw right hard to part.
Not in the years of freedom should one start!
So often sleep steals laughter, and, Time’s flow,
Expels old love, sends slight sursis. We go.
Lives leave ere summer’s eves grow long, ends chart.
life as silence soon falls stricken by Time's dart.
Even now, while in fame your name may grow,
Ribald critics try, false praise bestow.
So seek within, till safe your soul, - spurn mart.
Surprises will chains burst, turn tables, - you’re
Sure to win, and find Eve’s apple’s [s]core...


© Jonathan Robin – written 19 January 1992 revised 6 January 2007
robi3_0529_robi3_0000 BQS_ZXX


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, March 24, 2009



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