Poem -

IT'S NEARLY TIME

IT'S NEARLY TIME

It's nearly time that you got up off your big arse,
it won't always be, that good things come to pass;
my father died at fifty eight, now I'm nearly hundred,
how many times had I escaped after I'd blundered.

Ce la vie, prhaps some born to be lucky seems to me,
my mother died just three months short of a century;
I have to get over the line - a milestone as it were,
I'll make it, cream cakes from the king - just for her.

It would be strange if we turned into 'Methuselahs,'
a myth of course when probably it was tenths of years;
however, suppose it was true, oh no! Too many wives,
children, resposibility, having to deal with all those lives.

It's nearly time and you should do the things you want to do,
don't say 'can't' anymore - last chance before heavenly queue.

 

Like 2 Pin it 0
Support CosmoFunnel.com

Support CosmoFunnel.com

You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.

Log in to leave a comment.

Comments

author
Terry Reeves

Hi K.G.,
Thanks so much
love,
Terry.
xoxo :)

 

Reply
author
Terry Reeves

Hi Linda,
Thanks so much,
love,
Terry.
xoxo :)
 

Reply
author
Terry Reeves

Hi Sparrow,
Thanks so much,
love,
Terry.
xoxo :)

Reply
Poem -

Back On The Terraces

Back On The Terraces

When I was a small boy watching a game in the rain,
now that you're older, nothing will be the same...

Poem -

It must have been love . . ...

It must have been love . . . . . .

I'll take the words from Pers and make them greater,
a bit like inevitability which became sooner or...

Poem -

THE UNTHINKABLE

THE UNTHINKABLE

God created woman so that man would not be lonely,
to go forth, procreate the the world for her eyes...

Latest poems in Sonnet

Poem -

Back On The Terraces

Back On The Terraces

When I was a small boy watching a game in the rain,
now that you're older, nothing will be the same...

Poem -

It must have been love . . ...

It must have been love . . . . . .

I'll take the words from Pers and make them greater,
a bit like inevitability which became sooner or...

Poem -

Altar Coal

Purge my sight with Altar coal!
Lifting burden ; my pleading goal!
Hiding sinews ; evermore...

Advertise on CosmoFunnel.com