Make Hay Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Make Hay



Harebrained, hare, wander, squander time, misled,
while hair divides fast living from last groan.
Both rabbit, Man dark glasses wear. Unknown
in May, July lies, may mask lies ahead.
What funny seems through bunny's glasses spread
from brow to brow now, are not set in stone,
found fragile run aground, for few postpone
fate's finger, what was written must be read.
Begun in fun, life filters sun. Strife, dread,
rub gilt off fabled gingerbread, bloom blown.
Crumbling cookie topples pride's fragile throne,
boom ride bust, thrust aside, game's aims misread.
Simplistic moral of this sonnet's seen
make hay while sun shines, seeking pastures green.

Procrastination washes whims away,
forthwith glean Nature's bounty from life's field,
options too safe, too risky, sanctions spray:
both may prove problematical, false shield
endeavours compromising to waylay
long distance run, from mice and men concealed.
As hair divides sown, desert, night and day,
coincidental chance dance play seems sealed
some say before 'before', won't be revealed
till karmic wheel has 'spoken', had its say,
though none remain to hear near, far afield.
No 'easy answers' are provided, stray
not too far from true inner balance which
authentic opportunities may stitch.


5 September 2009 revised 22 June 2021
previous title Make Hay while Sun Shines



for previous version see below

Make Hay while Sun Shines

As hair divides fast living from last groan,
and hare and rarebit hop like time ahead,
both they and Man dark glasses wear, unknown
is future near and far past's story sped.
What funny seems through bunny's glasses spread
from brow to brow now may, tomorrow blown,
reveal dreams' themes found fragile, few postpone
fate's finger, what was written must be read.
Begun in fun, life filters sun; strife, dread,
rubs gilt off fabled gingerbread, strikes stone
clover's four leaves, leaves grieving fallen throne,
with pride's ride set aside, forgotten, fled.
The moral of this simple sonnet's seen:
make hay while sun still shines, seek pastures green.

Friday, December 27, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: funny,july,lies,sonnet
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(5 September 2009) revised 22 June 2021 robi03_1988_robi03_0000 SXX_DJZ
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