Time is Our Sinecure
Within this life awakening
Upon an equinoctial tide
Our paintings, on a choc'late box,
Are sadly often spied
With neither tongue nor telescope
As sanctioned by the pope
Within my heart a treasure
Upon a regal jalopy
Our extras, in a numbing heap
A shining panoply
With neither eyes nor astrolabe
As gimbled in the wabe
No greater love is gathered
By those who seek eternal life
Our wishes, in a torrent dire
Are piquant like a knife
With neither hoof nor howitzer
Thus spake the kibitzer
Contributors: | (trad), P, loaf, N, Roland. |
Poem finished: | 24th September 2003. |