From Matthew to his Father

The fine art of Conversation = a source of emancipation,
and oral gratification per integration of knowledge
manifesting opportunity qua

sharing unconscious workings 

Vis a Vis windows to the soul
whereby a quickened pace arises to latch onto this role
i.e. as a conversant fellow, who at LVII years old does poll

the fleeting decades of his existence 

manning reminiscence for ole - remembrance of things past
and flash back to days of mine childhood's end - 

When last verse of noel
will be writ when father time 

dost take me underground akin to a mole
or perhaps cremation will deliver 

mine ashes along a rib-rocked knoll
of this then once living garden variety hominid - 

whose mindfulness endowed

Introspection, his biological ticket tape 
 eventual fated halt to life 

taken far from the madding crowd

whereby cosmic consciousness reigns supreme 

lording eminence grise of this beetle browed
chap, who hoop fully countless decades still abound 

for me to relish what would be legally allowed
reaching out to family since no value found as de cries

the ever rapid stealth of living, yet before my demise
this sensate being, with these ears and eyes
reckons he cannot halt like greased lightening

how tempus fugit flies
tempting to whisk me away while mortality 

donned in get up as go tell a watchman guise
whence a half-century prior to kill a mockingbird 

deigned as main entree, now i got a bone to pick and pries
as much longevity and stave off...until i don't fear the (grim) reaper 

before permanent slumber doth ah rise!